Weeping Willow
by RainbowTeeth8
Summary: It has been over a year since the apocalypse began, and with the prison becoming unsafe, Rick and the group must move on. Taking on new members of the group results in a certain member to become expectant to deliver - but to deliver what exactly? And the walkers are changing - mutating. The group is hanging on their last threads, and this may be what it takes to snap.
1. They Come When You Call

**Ollo, my friends! Welcome to the first chapter of my first Walking Dead story! I owe some of the ideas to this chapter to my good friend, WalkerBait16! Thanks, Hon, you have really provided a ton of help! Oh, and please feel free to review on this story and tell me how it goes! Also, I am open to any suggestions for upcoming chapters! Sorry to ramble on, so please just read! Thank you! **

**Rainbow**

Carol

They are standing, bathed in sunlight, and huddled in a circle. The heavens shine rays of warmth upon their bodies, a certain glow enveloping their figures, each curved into the next person, positioned in a circle. It is like they are huddling, keeping warm like the penguins in Antarctica do to keep their eggs safe from the cold winter winds. But here, it is warm, peaceful, and safe.

I step towards them, emerging from the shadows. Light engulfs my own body, now, warming my face in a way I haven't felt in such a long time. As I come closer, one of the women in the circle turns her head, smiling. I recognize her, it is someone I haven't seen for such a long time, and it seems unreal.

"Jacqui?" I look at her, astonished, finding it hard to believe that she could truly be back. Her lips spread into a smile, and she nods to me, beckoning. The others in the circle of people begin to turn around as well, Jim, Amy, Patricia, Otis, Andrea. The ones we've lost. But they are here! I can see them right in front of me, they must be real!

The circle begins to dissipate, opening up like a gate. For a moment, I am blinded by the sun, and as I adjust to the black splotches dotting my vision, I see her.

A carpet of sunlight unfolds my path to her, the one I begin running down. She is engulfed in the light, a beautiful angel to be beheld by my disbelieving eyes. My feet, which are bare, squish in the sodden ground, and I stumble to make it to her, the absolute only thing that matters at the moment. Not Amy, not Jacqui – _Sophia_.

"Mommy!" she yells, gracefully seeming to dance down the pathway the others have created for her. She has her doll by the hand, and it slaps against her thighs as she barrels towards me with speed almost unbelievable for a child. Together, we collide, my arms going around her, never planning to let her go. She buries her face into my neck, sobbing into my breast bone. I taste salty tears of my own on my face as I press my nose to her short, honey brown hair. She smells like strawberries and cream, similar to the shampoo she washed her hair with before bad things started to happen.

"Sophia, _Sophia_." I moan into her skinny, flexible body. I have gone so long believing that she is gone, but now she is here with me, safe and sound, brown eyes and freckles intact.

"I missed you, Mom." She whispers into my ear between child-like gasps. "Mommy, don't leave me again."

"Shhhh." I hold her apart from my body to wipe her tears away from her cheeks. With my hands still on her shoulders, I pull her in again. She still clutches her cloth doll against her chest, holding it as tightly as I am holding her. "Mommy won't leave you. Mommy will never leave you."

I wake with a jolt from the dream, my limbs pressed to the thin mattress I am lying on. I shiver, rolling over, pulling the light blue blanket around my shoulders. Stone rooms tend to get cold during the night, and this eve is no exception. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I pull the familiar, dirty cloth doll to my chest.

This is not the first night the dreams have come. Since the night she went missing, she has come to me in dreams. Sometimes she is healthy, like I have just seen her. Other times, she is the putrid, rotting corpse that is not Sophia, the way I saw her body last. Each dream is painful to wake up from and realize that she is no longer here beside me.

Down the hall, I hear somebody stirring. Judith begins to cry, her high-pitched baby wail echoes off of the stone walls surrounding our domain. Somebody gets out of bed, I hear the creak of the bunk, and she is shushed to soft whimpers. I wipe my eyes as the footsteps get closer to my cell, pulling the blanket over my head so only my eyes are showing. A figure stands in the doorway a moment, back turned, but I can tell it is Lori. She is holding a fussy 5-month-old Judith, who is calming down in her mother's arms.

"Shhh." She croons to her child, her thin body swaying back and forth. This is followed by soft smacking noises as she feeds hungry Judith, and she turns down the pathway, carrying her farther into the bowels of the prison. I pull the blankets over my head again and close my eyes, willing the tears to stay away.

Maggie

I pull my green sweatshirt over my hand and wipe the dew from the watchtower window. Drawing a smiley face with my fingertip, I turn to Glenn as he leans against the desk across from the window. He smiles at my child-like behavior, and I sink into the swivel chair that faces the window.

"You need a haircut." I point out to Glenn as he sits on the edge of the same desk he was leaning against. "It won't be long until I can't see your eyes anymore."

"It isn't so bad." He runs his hand through his dark hair, his eyes rolling up to try to see what he is doing. "How come you don't complain when Daryl's hair is even longer than mine?"

I laugh, pulling my sweatshirt over my hands. Shivers cause my body to shake, and I once again, acting as a child, pull my arms completely into the body of my shirt and wrap my bear arms around ribs. "Because Daryl points his crossbow in your face if you try to tell him what to do."

Glenn takes a turn to laugh and touches the tip of his finger lightly to the tip of the knife he is holding. "Maybe you could give me a quick trim. Don't know if I trust you, though, you'd leave me with a bald patch."

"So what if I did?" I stick my hands through the neck hole of my shirt like a star-nosed mole emerging quickly from its burrow, and scratch my chin. It really is cold, probably only 30 or so degrees out. "Would you slit my throat?"

"Never." He wraps his arms around me from behind, pressing his frigid lips to the skin behind my ear. The early-morning dawn casts dent-like shadows over the contours of his face. I re-insert my arms into the right openings and lean up to kiss him. He catches my bottom lip between both of his, once, and then twice, pressing his forehead into mine to take a breath. I spin around to face him in my chair and lace my fingers in his hair to pull him down closer to me. He pushes my hair back, and then moves his hands down my hips.

We don't need to talk anymore. I stand up, wrapping my arms around his neck. We both shiver at our skin against each other's, chilly in the early-morning air, and I rest my ear against his chest. He links his fingers at the small of my back, and I close my eyes. His heart beats beneath my ear and I savor the sound of it.

"Was it you crying last night?" his hand slides across my cheekbone, the tips of his fingers behind my ear, and he removes a stray strand of hair from my eyes. "I should have gotten up – to see if you were alright."

"No." I don't turn to him while I talk, but count his heartbeats: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. "I slept fine, with Beth. It must have been someone else."

"Carol, I guess." I can tell he is frowning by the tone of his voice. I know Glenn well enough to recognize his loyalty and concern for the remaining original members of his group. I try not to think of the ones we have lost, step-mother, step-brother, life-long friends. He has lost many as well, including the little girl that went missing over a year ago. "She looks so tired – like she doesn't even sleep at all anymore. Lori says she has nightmares, ones that make her jolt around in her sleep."

"We all have nightmares." I point out, flinching at the thoughts I've had lately. The nightmares that have haunted me each night, and even more so Beth, who is 18, only a child. When I sleep beside her, she often mumbles of Jimmy, her boyfriend, who is another we have lost.

"I know. But we-"

_BANG!_

Glenn is interrupted by a loud popping noise, an unmistakable sound of gunfire. It startles him, and I am shook in his arms as he startles. He grabs for his freshly sharpened knife, and I grab for my gun. He flies out the door, bounding down the stairs three at a time, tripping on the wet, metal steps. I run after him, skidding onto my butt when I hit the grass, but I pull my body back up again and slip and slide across the dewy ground. Ahead of me, Glenn is running to the fence to meet Rick, who has already emerged from the jail, along with Daryl and his crossbow.

"Who the hell has been wasting our rounds?!" Daryl angrily thrusts his crossbow at Glenn who drops his knife as he slips on the wet ground. I trip into him, and he catches me, setting me upright again. I click my gun off of the safe mode and point it at the ground.

"It came from the other side of the fence." Glenn, strides over the chain link fence and infuses his knife into a walker's skull as he presses his body to the fence, shaking the wire with hunger. The creature falls to the ground as soon as he claims his weapon back, its right eye oozing from its already-rotten socket. It seems the mysterious shot has attracted the geeks by the dozen, and a fair number of them are loping lopsidedly towards the fence and towards us, and I aim my gun.

"No, Maggie." Glenn shakes his head, and I lower my weapon. The geeks at the gate rattle the metal, throwing themselves against it trying to get to us, and I back up a little. Glenn has come almost accustomed to the walkers, but part of me still sees them as people. Not like my Dad, but more like bodies. Even though their brains are dead, the body hitting the ground is awfully definite. "You'll attract more."

"Bastards!" Daryl aims his crossbow directly at a womanly walker's forehead and grunts as she goes down with the sounds of bowstrings popping and a pointed, homemade arrow piercing her brain. "To Hell with all ya'll!"

"Yelling will only attract more of them." Rick wipes his hand over his scruffy chin, backing up as a rotting hand protrudes through the holes in the fence towards him. "You only have so many arrows, stop wasting them."

"Stop fighting." Glenn wipes his bloody knife off on his jeans. "We need to figure out where that shot came from."

"Looks like we've got a bigger problem." My eyes scan the tree line only yards from the prison where more dead-brained idiots are emerging from the trees. Some look mildly intact, others have chunks of dead skin hanging from their face, arms, neck. They all wear the most random of clothes, too, some nightgowns and pajamas, some with converse shoes like Beth wears, or only wearing one shoe. Even some of them are dressed up in scratched-up dresses, like they were bitten at a cocktail party. All-in-all, each of them looks like they have been living under a rock for the past few years.

"Think they can break down the fence?" Glenn asks.

"Maybe." Daryl takes his remaining arrow in his mouth and stretches the bow string back to the release trigger. "Those pussy asses get through, we'll block 'em in a different section and kill 'em off one-by-one."

"Great plan." Glenn rolls his eyes, scanning the tree line as I do.

"Well you're the Asian." Daryl shrugs, talking around the arrow in his mouth. "You're supposed to be a genius. You figure out a plan then, Ching Chong."

Glenn's knuckles tighten around his knife, and I rest my hand on his arm. His vice doesn't loosen.

"Obviously, we need to do something." Rick takes his turn to watch even more zombies ramble out from the wilderness. "Whoever shot that gun must have known what they were doing."

"Huh, maybe not." Daryl sniffles and spits a wad of spit into the grass, and it drips down into the dirt. "Numb nuts over there didn't know how to aim a BB when he first put a gun in his hands. Just sayin'." He motions to Glenn.

"Hey, wait, look." Glenn doesn't even hear Daryl's insult as his eyes gaze out, looking at something over the chain link. I find a link in the fence opposite the ones the walkers are pressed to, and climb up it, sitting on the top of it to see out over the herd. From the foliage cover, a figure is emerging, something that is not human. The creature is at a slow trot, definitely an animal, larger than a fox, but much too small to be a deer. I cup my hands around my eyes, shielding the rising sun from my vision, and watch as the figure wobbles from the wilderness.

"What in God's name?" Rick clicks his own gun into place, and Glenn stares in disbelief.

"Do you think – whatever that thing is – was turned?" I straddle the gate like a horse, fixating each of my worn boots in a link on each side. I hold the pole with the fabric of my sweatshirt over my hands like I am gripping the saddle horn of a horse, leaning back on my bottom. The creature lollops at a fast canter now, barreling towards the fence. Its skin looks lumpy and reddish from this far back, like most lamebrains are, and even from here, I can see its sharp-teeth are barred.

"I got it!" Glenn points his gun at the fast-coming animal, but Daryl's arrow is already flying.

"NO!" Rick yells as soon as the nearly-soundless _thwap _of the bow releases the piercing arrow as it sails through the air in what seems like slow motion. It pierces the running figure in the haunches, and it goes down with a howl not unlike a wolf. Rick turns to Daryl, his florid face a mess of anger and confusion. "That could be our only specimen of an animal! Maybe it affects them differently! Maybe Hershel could have helped it!"

"I took care of the problem! Did you want some rabid animal tearin' down the fence?!" Daryl slings his down over his back with anger, throwing his hands up. "I ain't havin' anyone get hurt anymore!"

I tune out the arguing as Glenn interjects into the conversation. Instead, I focus on the struggling animal on its side on the ground, blood oozing from its shoulder. The walkers ignore it, but it is not coming still, the arrow protrudes from its shoulder, and I think I hear it whine.

"Hey!" A voice suddenly yells, and I startle out of my reverie. The fence I am sitting on disappears out from under me, and I fall towards the ground. My boot is caught in one of the links, and my body gets turned upside down before it finally shakes loose and I hit the hard ground on my back. I turn over, coughing, my chest aching and back ringing with ripples of pain. I remember what Dad told me when I was only little: "If you're hurt, lie still until you can figure out if you are seriously injured. Try to move your arms and legs slowly at first and see if you have any broken bones."

I move my arms, feeling a pain radiate into my back. The same happens when I move my legs, and my spine just begins to absorb the impact of the 20 foot fall. I moan and sit up, hot tears running down my face from the sudden wrenching pain, and I fall backwards again. The gate creaks, I hear it, as someone opens it, and I pull myself up holding onto the chain link, bending from the kink in my back.

"Maggie!" Glenn shouts from far away, and I feel disoriented, like there is cotton stuffed in my ears. There is a muffled gunshot and I roll over to see a walker go down, blood spraying out the back of his head.

"Glenn." I moan, letting out a shout as I wrench my back into place again. My legs are fuzzy as I push the now-closed gate open again, and I stumble into the herd of hungry zombies. They immediately make a grab for me, yanking my hair back, but I pop the ones touching me in the head with Beth's Vektor I borrowed from her this morning. I run towards Glenn, or at least I think I run, but really I am stumbling like a walker. My vision shakes like my eyes are a camera that someone is holding while running, the ground swooping out from under me.

"Maggie!" I hear Glenn shouting again, but he is closer now. "Watch out-"

I fall to my knees, grabbing for that ground. I hit it with a smack, and with a gurgling shriek, I am dog-piled by rotting bodies. I almost unconsciously kick the nearest body off of me as I spiral onto my back on the ground, nailing the living corpse in the face. He shrieks his low grunt, and I keep pushing myself back by kicking my feet. It is no use, and another one is soon closing in on me.

"Get back! RAH!" I hear a deep grunt and the sound of a skull being knocked in by a blunt object, a sound I have sadly become accustomed to. A shadowed figure hits the geek off of me with a club, and it falls back with a gush of black, gooey blood, which sprays all over my shirt. Panting, I scramble backwards again, only for another dead body to grab for my face.

"For the love of gravy, _Jagger!_" The same person who wacked the first walker whistles a long-pitched, low whistle with a sudden high, swooping pitch at the end, and the sound of quick, light feet on sod meets my ears. Without the person doing a thing, the vicious walker is pulled from my body. I can hear barking and snarling, and other voices, along with the sounds of guns.

I lie there, watching like it is in slow motion as the figure, who I now see is a fairly heavy-set man that is covered in the remains of a dead walker. I moan, watching him slay a few more walkers, clubbing them with a wooden club. Snarling and howling is still audible, but my vision is fading quickly.

"Glenn." I say a third time, but this is the quietest of times, and I know that he can't hear me anymore. As my eyes slide shut, I see an animal standing over me, tongue rolling out, panting in my face. The thing is covered in guts.

"Maggie. _Maggie_." A voice whispers, urgently, but also gentle. "Maggie, baby, come on." It is Glenn, and he is close.

My eyes slide open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. His face slides into view, swimming like his features are a puddle. My head throbs like it has a heartbeat that is separate from my body, and it hurts to breathe.

"_Maggie_, you okay?" He gently strokes my hair back, letting his hand remain on my cheek. I put my own hand on top of his, weakly smiling.

"I'm fine. Got a headache that hurts somethin' terrible, though." I push my fingers to my temples, feeling the throb deepen. He wraps his arm around my upper back, his hand touching my shoulder blade, and lifts me up from the bunk I am lying on. He wraps his other arm around me, pressing my head into his stomach, and his lips brush the top of my head.

"Not surprising. You fell off the fence, and hit your head pretty hard. Hershel thought you'd got a concussion." He gently rests me back on the pillows, but I pull myself back up.

"No kidding." I rub a goose egg forming above my left eyebrow, feeling how tender it is. My back also feels wrenched in an unnatural position, and I try to rub it with my hand.

"Here." Glenn slips his hand beneath my fresh t-shirt from the back and his warm hand rubs against my sore back. I smile at his concern and he looks to me with that expression of his, the one where he is trying to figure out what I am thinking. With his rubbing, my back really is feeling better, and I am able to make sense of my surroundings.

"Thanks – _Mmmm._" I wince at a kink he hits with his calloused palm, and he pulls away. "No – no, it felt good – Glenn? What happened out there?"

He looks down. "Maggs…"

"I wanna know." I swing my legs over the side of the bed, reaching for my boots. My feet are bare, and my toes are numb from the cold. Glenn sighs, pushing his hair up through his fingers.

"Maggie…" He looks away. "We don't need to talk about this now. Rest."

"Yes, we do." I cross my arms. "Who saved me?" It is not a question, it is a statement really, a demand.

"The person who shot the gun – he's a survivor, like we are. He claims that he's been wandering the woods since the apocalypse began. He's got two people with him – kids, really. A boy and a girl. We've got him locked in a cell, Rick says it's a safety precaution, and they have guns." Glenn spits out random information about my savior. I don't care who this guy is; he saved my life, and the reason for my existence does not deserve to be locked in a jail cell.

"The wolves." I rub the back of my head that aches like I've been clubbed. "What about the wolves?"

He looks at me with a slightly confused expression at first, but then understanding causes him to raise his eyebrows. "The guy has dogs. That's what the animal was, it was one of his dogs. Daryl shot it; Hershel's taking care of it."

"I want to see them." I sit up again, ignoring the pain. He doesn't interject, just follows me as I pad barefoot down the corridor. Each of the cells that are occupied for sleep, Beth has labeled with paper and permanent markers with our names. It is a sort of home touch, something only my kind-hearted sister would think of doing. Beside each of our names, she has drawn a tiny picture: a border of flowers for her, a rattle for Lori, Rick and Judith, a cat beside Carol's name. The doodles bring us light in this life, even by the small things.

Dad is in the main "dining" area, working over a yelping, whimpering, non-human figure. He has a pair of latex gloves on, carefully working out an arrow from its front flank. I rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Maggie." He nods to me. "I see you're up and around again."

"Is the dog alright?" I lean over the table of the poor animal. It is covered in what appears to be black muck, possibly smeared in parts of organs. It seems whoever is the master of these pooches, they have taken advantage of the zombie smell, which masks humanity, and for this dog's case, its animalness. Dad has cleaned the fur around the wound, but the dog is still in danger of infection.

"Maggie, you animal lover. You nearly get a concussion, and you worry about some rabid animal." Beth speaks up. She and Carl are sitting on the steps nearest the cell where out refuges are supposedly housed.

"Hush, Beth." I watch our father work over the animal, struggling as she dog fusses and writhes as he tries to exit the arrow.

"Stop!" I hear a voice from the cell. "You're hurting him, stop hurting him!"

I turn to the small, barred room to see an almost covered-in-zombie-innards boy, almost unrecognizable. His hair I slicked back, not with hair gel, but with glue-like, black blood. Though he is completely plastered with the goop, I can see his bright blue eyes, electric with an urgent surviving force I haven't seen in anyone in so long. He is tall, skinny, from lack of nourishment, with a face smeared with red and black, yet I can still see his straight, long nose and straight teeth, strong hands, and those bright, bright eyes. He is holding the bars of the door, pressed up against them, watching Dad laboriously work over the dog.

"It's alright, son. I'm a veterinarian." Dad nods to him as the dog lets out a low yip and squirms. Under the goo covering his body, I can tell it is probably some sort of hunting dog, and a beautiful one at that. The fur showing is a pale gray with darker black spots, and his eyes are a light, orangey brown.

"I can make him hold still!" Boy shouts again, distressed by the pain of the animal. "Please, I can't stand him hurting!"

"It looks like he knows what he's doing." Another softer voice comes from behind him, and a girl or what I perceive to be a girl, under the thick layer of gunk rests a hand on his shoulder. Her hair is in two braids and she is wearing glasses. One of the lenses in cracked, caving in towards her right eye. "Kase, let him be."

The boy, Kase, now is crying, tears creating paths in the patches on his cheeks. The dog whimpers again. Kase rattles the cage.

"Kase, for the love of God, knock it off!" Another gruffer voice yells from next to the girl. I notice two other dogs at his heels, sitting obediently at his side. One of them ruffs at me as I look it in the eye.

"What do you expect me to _do_, Oz, they're hurting Boots!" Kase yells back. I impulsively grab the keys from the hook and jam the largest key into the lock and turn it until it clicks. Before anyone can stop me from doing this, I am pulling the rancid-smelling young boy from the cell, locking the door after him before any of the prisoners can squeeze their way through the opening.

"His name's Boots?" I ask as I am leading him by his sleeve to the operating table. He nods, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

"Yeah." He sniffs, taking the dog's head in his hands, stroking over his triangle-shaped ears. "He's my constant companion. Since – all this – Shit, do we have to talk about this now?" He gets emotional again, kissing Boots' face and stroking his snout.

"No need to." Dad holds a bloody arrow up, waving it in triumph. "I'll patch him up as soon as he's cleaned off. Maggie, if you wouldn't mind, take him into the showers and clean him up."

"I don't mind." I turn to Kase. "You wanna help me?"

He nods, scooping his hands beneath Boots' body, lifting him into his chest. He pays no attention to the girl or the guy he was recently imprisoned with, just carries the weak dog as he follows me to the showers. I turn one on after stripping my socks and rolling up my jeans, and Kase stands awkwardly in the doorway, holding Boots.

"Well, come on. Bring 'im in." I nod to him after laying down a tarp for the dog. He hurries in, setting the whimpering animal down, stroking over his ear again. I let the lukewarm water wash over his fur a moment so he can get used to the temperature.

"Thanks." He finally looks up, obviously thankful for his dog.

"No problem. You're Kase, huh?" I lather a bit of regular soap in my palms.

"Uh-huh. And you're Maggie. Sorry you got hurt." He looks down sheepishly.

"It's fine." I shrug, still walking off the aches and pains. "Were you the one who startled me and made me fall?"

"Yeah." He looks down, suddenly interested in the mill-dewy floor tiles. "I didn't mean to – just – Boots."

"Consider it in the past." I smile slightly, soaping up Boots' tangled fur. "I should probably point out, though, you smell like rotting flesh, and it's burning my nose."

"Oh, right." He lifts a piece of fabric near the collar of his shirt and sniffs it, making a disgusted expression.

"Women's showers through there." I point through the door to the only empty showering room. "I'll get Glenn to bring you down some clothes, you're probably close in size."

"Thanks." Kase pets Boots one more time, standing up. Reluctantly, he pauses in the doorway, staring at the dog.

"I'll take good care of your dog." I nod, rinsing the soap by holding the nozzle close to his fur. "Don't worry."

Kase nods, ducking into the women's showering area. I clean Boots until his dark, gray-flecked fur is visible again, and all of the guts are washed down the sink. He really is a pretty dog, and now that I can see him, I recognize him as being a birding dog, like one I used to have when I was young. They make great companions, and are best at hunting birds and other small game.

"There ya are, buddy." I smile as I help him stand. Blood still drips from his shoulder, but he is able to walk all the way back to Dad, who is waiting with fresh bandages. The prisoners watch from their cell as I help him wrap up the dog, setting him on his feet again.

"Where's Kase?" The girl with the glasses asks after a while, meekly.

"Showering. Ya'll can rinse off once he gets back." I reply.

"I don't see why you're keeping us in here." The older man looks up from petting the larger dog's head. "You've got our weapons. Hell, girl, I saved your life when you were rolling all over the ground like a codfish fool!"

I flinch, knowing his words are true. "Those your dogs, Mister?"

"Uh-huh." He nods. "This here is Jagger. Like Mick Jagger." He motions to the larger dog, who is male. "The other's Mimzie. She's a real sweet girl."

"And you are?" Rick walks down the stairs, followed by Lori, who is holding Judith, Carol, and Daryl.

"Ozzy." He nods. "That's Dylin." He motions to the pig-tailed girl with the cracked glasses.

"Are you going to let us out of here?" Dylin raises her delicate eyebrows, her clothes weighed down with the weight of the walker remains.

"Workin' on it." Daryl strides by, chewing on a toothpick. He turns down the hallway, cockily swaggering.

"Where're you going all alone?" Beth looks to him with concern.

"To take a leak." Daryl shouts down the echoing hallway. "Good lord, you try ta get some privacy around here."

"I'll be right back." I nod to Glenn who is now leaning against the doorframe. He has a pile of clean clothes in his arms, which he hands to me.

"Don't over-do it." He looks to me, concerned. I lean up, pressing my lips hard to his a few moments, sinking into his body.

"Consider that the preview for tonight's movie." I wink at him, taking the clothes from his arms, and sweep down the hallway.

I leave the pile of clothes outside the shower room, sinking down onto the bench outside. The stench of the dead washing down the drain fills my nose, and I pull my clean t-shirt over my nose to smell the starch and clean air.

A few minutes after this, Kase emerges, dressed in Glenn's clothes from the showering room. He looks hardly anything like the gore-covered boy I remember from earlier. He's a bit taller than Glenn, so his pants are a bit flooded, but the shirt fits his noodle-like body well. I realize he is a bit older than I had guessed, maybe closer to 17 or 18, not the 16 I had figured. He is malnourished all the same, with dark hair falling in wet clumps over his pale forehead. His arms are long to match his legs, and his fingers are slim and gentle. I notice that even though he is now washed off, his eyes are still as voltaic as ever.

"Warm water – GOD." He moans, sitting next to be, resting his head against the wall. "Can't remember the last time I've felt that."

"Rick figures the prison has its own treatment system." I tell him, wrapping my arms around me ribs. "And water wells. Fells nice."

"Sure does." He grins, and I notice one of his bottom teeth is crooked, just slightly rotated a bit in his palate. "Thanks again, Maggie."

"You saved me. You've earned my trust, and Glenn's."

"Yeah, he really loves you, I can tell." He smiles gently, folding his skinny fingers together.

"Are Ozzy and Dylin your family?" I ask.

"Nah." He looks away, obviously sensitive to the subject. "Dylin was a girl in my school, a year below me. The plague started gettin' real bad a day we were in school. Sirens started goin' off and everything, and I didn't go home, I went to the police station. Apparently, she had the same idea. All the cops were gone, 'cept Oz, who's a private investigator, or at least was. He had his cadaver dogs with 'im, Boots, Jagger, and Mimz."

"What's a cadaver dog?" I turn to him, interested.

"Dogs trained to trace the scent of blood, or human remains. Oz was more to the pups than just work, though, he trained them himself, took 'em home, gave 'em a good life, ya know? Anyways, he didn't let us go home after we got there, things had gone pretty much to shit already, and he took us far away. We've been in the woods since then, since now I guess. It really comes in handy; also, the dogs are trained to attack. Helps with a stampede of corpses comin' your way, though."

"Don't they ever get bitten?" I ask, thinking of Boots' seemingly unscratched skin, minus the arrow wound.

"That's the thing." A grin spreads across Kace's face. "Jagger's been bit a few times, so has Mimzie. Pretty gruesome bites, too, but they never changed. Got infected, yeah, but didn't turn. Guess it doesn't affect animals."

"Interesting. I'll let the others know I'm becoming an Animargous."

He laughs. "You didn't strike me as a Harry Potter girl."

I shrug. "Guess people can surprise you."

"Yeah." He is quiet a very long time, possibly contemplating.

"You like Boots a lot, huh?" I ask, remembering his concern for the dog.

"One of the only things I got, right?" He brings his knees up to his chest, wrapping his long arms around them. "People – they leave. People realize the world's gone to shit. People go by human nature. Dogs – they're just dogs. They don't know any different, they just live their life as it comes. Boots – he's a good boy. He always curls up right next to me at the end of each long day, his wet nose nuzzling my hand to make sure I'm still there. It just – feels good to be needed after – being the opposite for so long."

"He is a good boy." I nod. "I had a dog like that once. Hunted good game, too."

"Boots is the reason we eat." Kase talks with love of Ozzy's dog, who is truly his. "I didn't think I would ever say this, but I owe my life to a dog."

I smile, standing up, taking a mop off the wall. Then, I begin to mop the undrained water up from the floor. "I wouldn't be able to survive without my dad and sister."

"Your sister?" His eyebrows perk with interest. "Beth? She's nice; she made sure we had food, and blankets. She was the only one to not complain about how bad we all smelled."

I laugh. "You've got me there."

"Well," Kase stretches, yawning. "Guess you should take me back to my cell, then. Don't want the others to think I'm getting special treatment."

"You don't have to go back in there. I think you've proved you're on our side." I hang the mop back up, heading toward the door. "We'll get the others cleaned up, and then we'll figure what to do."

Kase sighs with relief. "Good. Can I see Boots now?"

"Sure." I smile sympathetically, leading him back through the maze of stone corridors, listening to his footsteps behind mine. The shoes, which are his blue converse I've washed in the shower, squish, as they are not completely dry yet.

"It's actually pretty nice here – safe." I tell him, turning around to look at him when I speak. "Rick thinks we can stay here a long time, as long as we have enough food and water, which we do. Let me tell you, it feels nice to brush your teeth regularly again. We even – Uumph!"

I make a noise as I collide with Daryl, turning the corner directly into his chest.

"Wouldn't count on that, Lil Bo Peep." He looks me directly in the eye and motions for us to follow. He breaks into a run down the hallway, and Kase and I follow him. The cell where Ozzy, Dylin and the other two dogs is empty and no one besides us is in the main dining area.

Daryl leads us out the main doors, and finally pants into a slow walk toward the rest of the group. They are standing, watching, gazing out to the fence. It appears when I flung the gate open to help Glenn, I forgot to close it. On the other side of the fence, nearly a hundred walkers are pressing against it, groaning and squealing in high pitches. After they break down this fence, there is only one link fence separating us from them.

"What – what do we do?" I turn into Glenn's chest and watch Boots nuzzle his nose into Kase's hand. He looks to me with a fear in his electric eyes.

"What else c_an _we do?" Lori holds young Judith to her breast, bouncing her to cease her crying. Ozzy holds back his other two dogs, still covered in innards.

"Only one thing we can do." Rick turns to face all of us. "It isn't safe here anymore. We need to leave the prison."

** Don't forget to review, if you have the time! I am open to any suggestions. Next chapter to be up soon! Thanks!  
Rainbow**


	2. Don't Be Caught Without a Hall Pass

**Hola! Here is the second chapter! I hope you enjoy, and PLEASE feel free to tell me what you think! Give me any suggestions, and a soundtrack will be up soon for this story! Thanks again to WalkerBait16!**

Two: Don't Be Caught Without a Hall Pass

Carl

"I'm going to miss having my own room." I reach above the "door" to my cell, the closest thing I've had to my own bedroom since Mom, Dad and I lived in our house back in our old town. That was before dead people started walking the earth, and before everyone I knew was dead, and I went to school every day like a normal kid. That was also before I was allowed to carry a gun around in my belt every day.

"Wherever we go, maybe you'll get another one of your own." Beth looks down the hall at me where she is un-tacking the picture above Maggie's "room" where she has drawn a picture of a chicken. Beth is a good drawer. Even her permanent marker drawings are good, like an artist.

"I don't want to go." I shake my head, and sit on the bunk inside my cell. At the end of the mattress, my clothes are folded, freshly washed from Carol and Mom. My favorite shirt, the atomic paw, is on top, the only thing I have left from remembering school and how all of my friends wished they had one like it and how a girl named Cecilia Wallace said she liked it, too "We finally find a place that's safe, and now we have to go right away."

"Don't worry." She pokes her head out from down the hall, and folds a pair of jeans in her arms. "Your Dad will take care of us, Carl."

"I'm not worried about that. I know that he will." I stuff the pile of clothes into the bag Mom gave me, leaving the atomic paw shirt out, and slip my dirty shirt over my head. While I change, I set my hat down on the bed. "I have a baby sister. What if she cries, she doesn't know better."

"It will be alright." Beth comes out from her room, holding a small backpack that is orange. I stuff my bagged clothes into it, and she zips it, pulling the straps over her shoulders. "Maybe there's another place out there for us."

I grumble, putting my hat back on my head. It falls a little bit over my eyes, but that will be taken care of once my hair is longer and can hold it up. Beth folds the nametag labels into little squares and I zip them into the smallest pouch for her. Both of us go downstairs afterward, where everyone else is gathering to make a plan.

"Did you get everything from your bunk?" Mom puts her hand on my shoulder from behind, rubbing her palm up and down on my back, which I've always thought felt good. "Don't want you to forget anything."

"I didn't." I tell her, looking up to see her. She looks a lot more tired than I remember her looking before she got pregnant and Judith was born. Dad has the same look about him sometimes, like it is too much and his face takes the wear of the world. I hear them talking about it happening to me, but I can't imagine that.

"You alright?" She asks in her voice that still sounds like old Mom, like the one before she had Judith.

"Tired." I grip the brim of my special hat and pull it down over my eyes, pretending to snore like an old cartoon. She laughs, which makes me laugh, and she rubs the back of my neck where my hair is starting to grow longer. "Can I hold Judith?"

Maggie, who is holding my sister, gently places her in my arms. She is squirmy, and she punches the air with her little fist that is so small it is unbelievable. Her face breaks into a baby smile when she sees me, though, and I smile down at her.

"She's smiling at me." I grin up at Mom.

"Or she has gas." Daryl, swinging his crossbow, strides past, a piece of Beth's homemade bread in his mouth.

Maggie snorts, and I smile as he walks by. Daryl is weird, I think. Sometimes, he is fine, and out of his character, like when he looked for Sophia every second when she was missing, but other times, he has unexplained rage. He told me that he would teach me how to shoot his crossbow in case I ever needed to, but he hasn't mentioned it again.

"Hey, Judy." I smile at my sister, who grabs for my hat with interest as I tilt down to make a face at her. I hold her upright and hold the hat over her head like she is wearing it. She laughs and drools.

"So what's the plan?" I ask Dad, turning to him and the guy who showed up early this morning, whose name is Ozzy. Earlier, he was covered in walker guts, like Dad told me to do in case I was trapped outside by myself, but now he is showered and so is the other girl, Dylin. Ozzy is about as tall as my Dad, but he has arms that have bigger muscles. His hair is the color of wheat with eyes about the same color match. His bigger companion, Jagger, a big, red-bone coon hound, never leaves his side and stands with his head held high and proud. His other bog, which is a beagle named Mimzie, looks older and sweeter with a little bit of gray spotting her muzzle.

The only girl he has with him, Dylin, is skinny enough to count her ribs through her t-shirt that Maggie lent her. She has hair the color of carrots, which she has now washed and plated into two braids. She has glasses on, but one of the lenses is cracked and caving in toward her eye something collided with the glass but didn't quite break all the way through to her eye.

"Our plan is to get out of here." Dad considers the map of the jail, hand-drawn by Hershel, circling some things I don't understand in a worn-down pencil. "And your plan is to stick to Mom's side like glue."

I frown, touching the cold metal of my gun with my fingers, about to pull it from its holster. "I'm not leaving you, Dad."

"Carl." He turns to me, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes I thought of earlier. It is like his eyes are sunk in, not like a walker, but like a creature all of his own. "I have watched you get shot, and son, let me tell you, that is the worst experience I will even know. I have seen you be over_run _with a herd all by yourself, and that wasn't too pretty either. For once, Carl, will you – _please_ – just stay with your mother."

"I'm not letting you do this alone." I hold my head high in hopes he will see my hat and remember the time he gave it me. "I'm not like Judith, I can defend myself."

Dad shakes his head, and I turn to anyone behind me to back me up. Daryl raises his eyebrows, slinging his bow over his shoulder. He looks at me with an "Oh-well-what're-you-gonna-do" face, but, like my Dad, I won't take that for an answer.

The sound of running footsteps comes after the main door slams shut, and Glenn skids into the room, sliding in his beat-up, size-too-big tennis shoes.

"Geeks broke down the first fence." He pants, putting his hands on his knees. Maggie rests her hand on his back and rubs up and down gently. "There's more of them now, and they went crazy when I went out there. Won't be long until they destroy the fence and have free reign of the prison. If we're gonna leave, we gotta do it now."

"We'll have to get to the cars." Carol lifts a tote of what I think is food and sets it on the ground. We'll have to go out the back way, though, someone will have to open the gate."

"I'll do it." Daryl looks down, playing with a piece of wood he's picked off one of his arrows that he made himself. "Ya'll get in the cars, and I'll open it."

"Daryl." I look up to Carol whose eyes are wide with fear. We all care about Daryl, we protect each other, but she looks after him the most.

"It'll be fine." Daryl shrugs. "Makes ya feel better, I'll keep my motorcycle runnin' right by the gate."

She looks like she's going to be sick, but she seems to be okay with it, or as much as she can be. The sound of chain link rattling and moaning comes from outside. Dad tosses the three pairs of keys to Glenn, who hands one to Maggie and another to Ozzy. Kase, the kid who is a few years older than me, looks like he is about to blow chunks along with Carol, and he is holding onto one of the dog's collars.

"We should start loading as much stuff in the cars as we can." Hershel hobbles closer to a bag of clothes on his crutches, trying to pick it up while balancing on one leg. Dylin blushes as he struggles, and picks it up for him.

"I got it." She pushes her broken glasses up her nose.

"Thank you, dear." He nods to the new-comer, and she backs up again.

Outside, I carry a small tote of things, which I hand to Ozzy. He then hands it to Glenn who sets it in the back of the Dodge Ram Truck. After that, I go back for more, passing the fence alone which is outlined by at least 200 hungry walkers. They rattle the fence menacingly, making raspy noises. I finger my gun and point it at one of them who is sticking his arm through the fence.

"Carl!" Mom's voice pierces through the darkness, and I lower my gun, slipping it back into the holster.

"Coming!" I yell back, jogging back to where she is waiting in the doorway. She has Judith in one arm, and a box in the other. I take Judy from her, who is starting to cry.

"You listen, Carl, look at me." Mom looks at me with her serious face. "You take your sister, you take her to Maggie and Glenn's car, and you buckle her real tight in the back seat and you sit with her until I come and get you."

"I'll make sure she's okay, Mom." I reassure because I know that's what she needs to hear.

"Come here." I can tell she is talking around a lump in her throat as she takes me in her open arm and kisses my hair. She kisses Judith's capped head, too, making sure her purple hat it over her hears and hugs both of us to her chest.

"It's going to be okay, Mom." I tell her after pulling away. "You gotta trust me and Dad."

She smiles, carrying the box out to one of the cars. I carry Judith to the car Maggie and Glenn usually drive, the _Tucson_, and open the door to the back seat. She gurgles as I set her down on the seat, propping her up on the seat. I buckle the small buckle on her legs so she can't wiggle away, and kiss her on top of the head.

"Stay there." I tell her, even though I know that she can't go anywhere on her own. "I'll be right back."

I close the car door and walk through the growing darkness again that presses down on me like a weight. The headlights from the truck light up the dead that are lined up against the last layer of the chain link fence. Like they are waiting in line for a buffet.

"You won't touch us." I get real close to one of them, looking him in the eyes that are droopy and yellow. "We won't let you hurt us."

Uproars of zombie noises get louder as they push against the fence. The structure creaks and groans from their weight, and a gruesome snapping noise startles me, and I fall flat on my butt.

The last layer of fencing collapses, causing the walkers to dog-pile on top of each other from the fall. They reach for me, rotting hands stretching in my direction, making noises like they've just run 20 miles nonstop. I suck in my breath, frantically reaching for my gun. It won't come out of the holster, and my hands shake like crazy, like I am having a seizure.

Finally, I get the gun out, and at the last minute, I cock it and fire at the first walker's head just as he is leaning over me. I scramble off the ground, running back towards the jail, but others are already pursuing me.

I turn around as I run and fire at the one that is closest. She falls in a heap and slows down the next-closest one as I run for the others.

"Get to the cars!" I yell to Carol and Dylin who are still carrying boxes. "Get in!" The walkers are still fairly far away, but I can tell that we don't have long. I jump into the car with Judith and hold onto her, choosing to protect her instead of fight because she is more important to me. She cries, and I kiss her forehead, shushing her.

More members of our group flee from the jail, and Maggie jumps into the driver's side, shoving the key in the ignition.

"Carl! What happened?!" She backs the car up, turning it so the back is facing the prison entrance, and pops the trunk. Mom throws open the trunk and starts throwing things into it in boxes and bags.

"The fence couldn't take it anymore!" I hold Judith, who is sobbing, to my chest. "It just collapsed!"

"Glenn!" Maggie throws open the door, shouting to him as he runs out of the jail, gun at the ready. "They're comin' fast, we gotta leave _now_!"

"Hold onto Judith!" I shout over the sound of gunshots to Maggie and hand her my sister. "Judy, I love you, I _love_ you." I tell her, ignoring her crying and Maggie's yells for me to get back in the car. I dive out of the door, clicking my gun into place. I shoot down the walker who is already to the car, turning in a full circle to survey my surroundings.

I shoot another one that is getting close to Beth who is helping Hershel hobble towards the car. I run towards her, taking Hershel's arm.

"Get in the car, Beth!" I shout to her.

"I'm not leavin' my Dad!" She protests.

"I got a gun, I can protect him!" I wave my gun in the air, already helping Hershel towards the car. He nods to Beth who gets in the car with Maggie, taking Judith. I take Hershel's arm and put my arm around his back to help him along faster.

"I'm – not –" He grunts his words with each step, "In – as good – a shape – as I used – to be."

"I won't let anything hurt you." I tell him.

"Carl – you're a good – child." He pants again, wheezing. "Don't think – I ever told – ya that – AHHH!"

Hershel is yanked back with a shriek by a woman walker who opens her mouth like she is going to bite into his neck, like a vampire.

"NO!" I shout, pointing my gun at her head. The barrel clicks. The gun locks up and refuses to shoot.

"Carl!" Hershel shouts. I don't think – I tackle the corpse, knocking her to the ground with a pained noise. She lets out a sickening squelch, and I tussle on the ground with her, ripping at her hair. It comes away in dry handfuls, like I am ripping up hay from her scalp, and she grabs hold of both of my wrists, her palms dragging down my wrists as she tightly grips me.

"Go!" I yell to him. "I can handle her!"

I hear him leave, his crutches clicking against the ground as he flees. I jam my fingers in the lock of the gun, squeezing the stuck trigger time after time.

_**BLAM**_!

It finally goes off into her head, and she slumps on top of me in a burst of luck. I push her body off from on top of mine, getting up. The herd of walkers is close, and only a few yards away from me, and I sprint from their dead-smelling corpses. I can see Daryl is already on his motorcycle, opening the gate out the other way.

"Wait for me!" I call, shoving my gun back in my hip holster. "Dad!"

When I get to the truck, Ozzy opens the door, pulling me in with a big, strong hand. It smells like dog in here, and I get a big, sloppy wet kiss from Jagger, who is half-standing in Ozzy's lap as he pulls away.

"Is – Hershel – okay?" I pant, holding a stitch in my side. "Did he –"

"He's fine, kid." Ozzy laughs as he pulls out after Daryl on his motorcycle, and we are followed by the other two cars. "That was some damn stunt, though, tackling that wayfarer the way you did. I haven't even seen any kid so brave."

"It sort of comes with the deal." I turn around to watch the dark prison that has been out home for so long disappear behind us. Gone in an instant. "If you carry the gun, you gotta be big enough to use it."

Kase

I can't get it out of my head how that mere kid kicked that wayfarer's ass back there. He tackled it, just like he wasn't afraid of it or anything, all for the one-legged old man. I can't bring myself to convince my mind I would have done the same.

We drive a long time, following the guy on the motorcycle, whose name is Daryl. I am sitting next to the woman named Lori, who is holding her baby, Judith. Rick, the father of the baby, and fast leader of the group, is sitting next to Lori, rubbing her back. Maggie is the one driving this car, and the veterinarian, Hershel, sits in the passenger's side. The others are either in the truck or in the other car.

"Where are we going?" Maggie's hands are shaking on the wheel, and she looks scared. Who could blame her?

"Nowhere, from here." Rick takes the baby and pats her on the back. She really is a cute baby, but she looks nothing like him. "We should call for Daryl, make a plan."

Maggie sticks her head out the window, shouting at the top of her lungs. "DARYL!"

The man on the motorcycle slows down, pulling over the side of the road. The other two cars do the same, and we all get out. Glenn, the Asian, gets out of the driver's side of the other car, running to Maggie who wraps her arms around his neck and cries. Carol, the older woman with short hair walks to Daryl, and he puts his hand under her chin, just for a split second, like he is tilting her head up to make sure she is okay. Boots howls in the darkness, and I shush him.

"Ain't safe at night." Daryl crosses his arms over his chest. "We need a place, somewhere safe for the night. The herd will follow the sound of our cars, we need a place we won't need to stay long."

"The school." Dylin shivers, running her skeletal hands up and down her bare shoulders. Beth, the small blond, pops the trunk and hands her a blanket and gives one to Carl too, who is only in a t-shirt. "Kase, our old highschool."

"What's she talking about?" Rick turns to me. Dylin seems to be too scared to communicate much right now, and it's not like she could with her teeth chattering so hard anyway.

"I don't think we're far from where the both of us went to school." I nod, looking up to Rick, petting Boots nervously. "I recognize a little bit around here, we can't be far. If it isn't overrun, we can bunk up for the night there and head out in the morning."

"Do you think you can drive?" Glenn asks, putting his arm around Maggie, who is still crying softly. Obviously, something of the dead invasion of this night's magnitude hasn't happened to Rick's group in a long time.

"I – I guess. I haven't driven a car in over a year, and even then…" I trail off, but they are all staring at me with their desperate eyes and tired faces.

"Please." Lori, the one with the baby, looks to me, rocking back and forth with the youngster in her arms, trying to get her to stop her crying. I let out a long sigh and finally get in the front seat, switching places with Maggie. Daryl revs his motorcycle, getting on it again, turning in a large circle to glide in behind the car I will be driving. I press my foot on the gas pedal nice and easy, letting the speedometer reach just past 65 miles an hour. I have never been the best driver, and the others in the back seat are making me nervous.

"You nervous?" Rick chuckles meekly from the back seat.

"A little." I take my hand from the wheel and wipe the sweat from my brow.

"Don't worry." He leans back in his seat, like he's comfortable with my driving. "You're doin' just fine."

It makes me feel better to have it coming from a cop, and I slowly relax, going a little past 70.

Slowly, the surroundings become familiar. We pass through town, never stopping, because a few wayfarers are roaming the streets. I turn down the side road, going a few more miles out of town. Finally, the dark, out-of-place high school looms out at us from the darkness, and I pull into the still-familiar parking lot, maneuvering around the remaining cars.

"Looks innocent enough." Maggie unbuckles, opening the door to the backseat. Daryl parks his motorcycle next to the car, getting off of it by swinging his leg over the banana seat.

"You'd think you was a God damn student driver on the roads like that." He takes his bow from his shoulder, pulling the bowstring back with his bare hands. "How old are you, kid, 10?"

"18." I shrug. "Never was a good driver, though."

"No kidding." He rolls his eyes.

"Everybody stick together, now." Rick says, clicking his own gun into place. "We gotta make sure the school's – clear."

"I know my way around." I tell him, nodding. He slips a gun into my hand, which is warm and metallic from being in his hand.

"You know how to shoot?"

"Uh-huh." I click the safety off expertly, nodding. Oz looks at me with pride, like I am his own son, which I am basically. By my judgment, I am, really; he's more of a father figure then I've ever had.

The group follows me as I enter the school through the already-open emergency exit, stepping over an abandoned backpack, kicking papers aside that have dumped from the pack. We make it down the hall, checking in each classroom, finding nothing.

"Clear down here." I whisper, turning back to Rick. Daryl heads down another hallway with Dylin leading the way and Mimzie at their heels. Boots sticks right beside me.

We continue into the school that is only one level, we only find one wayfarer, an older man I remember to be the freshmen Biology teacher, Mr. Staton. I pop him in the head, which is quieted by the silencer on my gun, and he falls to the ground in a heap.

Dylin comes running with Daryl, surveying the only corpse we have found. Dylin looks at me, pushing her always-too-big glasses up her small nose.

"When I said I wished he was dead when I took his class last year, I never meant it literally." She shakes her head, turning away. Down the hallway's clear, long as we stay in these two sectors, it'll be fine."

"I'll go crash in the Chemistry lab." I say. "I remember there were couches in there."

"I'll come." Beth, the small blonde, speaks up. "Daddy?" She turns to Hershel, who nods.

"'Bout time you got some good rest, Beth. Kase knows the school."

I nod to Beth who follows me, her green converse shoes squeaking on the old school tiles, and she almost passes me as I stop at a row of lockers.

"This was my old locker." I tell her, spinning the combination lock as it still comes naturally to me. "Funny the things you remember."

"Like locker combinations?" She smiles gently, and I think about how pretty she really is, I haven't noticed it until now. She has really dark, gray eyes, and she has a sort of sweet essence about her.

"Mmm." I nod, pushing up on the lock and swinging the rusty, green door open. A few pieces of paper flutter down at me, and I remember how I always used to have a messy locker. I pull a stack of things off of the top shelf, sorting through it. Graded papers, algebra text book, library's copy of "_Ender's Game_." "I never returned this."

"I don't think it matters anymore." Beth puts her hand on my shoulder, her kind eyes meeting mine.

"It somehow does." I stuff the book in my pack, careful not to bend the pages. "Come on, I think the couches are comfortable in the lab." I lead her down the hall and push open the door to the Chemistry room. She walks in ahead of me, setting her backpack down at one of the abandoned desks.

"Is it sad for you to come back here?" She looks around the classroom, turning in a slow circle on her toes.

"A little." I nod, taking a few steps closer to her. "I was a pretty good student."

"Me too." She tells me, turning to meet my eyes again. God, does she have pretty eyes, dark and tempest, swirling swimming pools of water. "I was going to graduate the same year – it happened."

"So was I." I trail off, unsure what to say. She makes me nervous, something I'm not used to. I've never been much of a lady's man, though I pretended to be sometimes.

"I had a boyfriend." She blurts out in a short, quick sentence, then immediately cups her hand over her mouth. "Kase-"

"No." I sit down on the brown couch in the back room, leaning back into the cushion comfort. "It's good to talk about it sometimes."

Beth sits down in the black easy chair across from me. "I didn't mean to blurt it out. Just – he died suddenly. We lost him when we lost many others and – I don't think he got any individual recognition he deserved, you know?"

"Oh, I know." I agree, knowing it is all too true. "I've never had a girlfriend, though. I don't know love like that."

"I didn't love him." She brushes the loose pieces of her blond hair back behind her ears and into her ponytail. "I mean, I did, but not in that way. At first, he wanted me for…"

"For…" I restart her sentence for her, but she doesn't continue.

"Never mind." She shakes her head, waving her hair in the air. "Let's just say I'm not exactly a virgin."

A shiver runs through my body, thinking of this tiny, innocent-looking girl even having the gumption to do it with anybody. "I am." I suddenly blurt out, not meaning to reveal it to her, this girl I only just met this morning.

"Really?" She lifts her head up from its position against the chair cushions. "You don't strike me as the type."

"It's okay." I shrug, getting a little uncomfortable with this conversation. "Not like I can change that now."

"Why not?" Beth asks, bringing her knees to her chest, unlacing her shoes. Once she has this part done, she kicks them off completely and wiggles her pink socks.

"I just – wait." I feel my eyes widen at her suggestion, or what I suppose is her suggestion. "I – "

"Shhh, Kase." She sits next to me on the couch, touching my cheek. It sounds wonderful to hear someone say my name with such tenderness that I haven't heard in so very long. And I can tell Beth is lonely, too, and she traces her hand down my chest.

"No…" I weakly whisper, but we both know that I mean "yes."

"You can't be a virgin forever." She leans back still holding my face in her tiny little hands. "Can I do this for you?" God, she never struck me as the type to do this. She appeared to be so innocent!

I stare at her serious face for a long time, gazing into her eyes. After a long, drawn-out silence, I nod my head. She rises from her spot, scampering over to the light switch, which she flips off. In the dark, I lie there, waiting, my eyes unadjusted to the blackness. I feel her after a moment, her body, as she kneels over me, her knees on each side of my legs.

"You really haven't ever done this before, have you?" I hear her voice gently in my ear. "Follow my lead, you'll know what to do."

And then she begins kissing me, her soft lips gentle against mine. Don't get me wrong, I've kissed girls before, I'm good at that part, and I prove it to her. I catch her bottom lip between both of mine and gently tug on it, touching my forehead to hers. She presses her hands to my chest, feeling my t-shirt away from my skin until it's over my head. She takes my hand in hers, putting it at the bottom of her shirt. The guides my hand up her waist, all the way back up to her face.

She unbuttons her shirt button-by-button, all the way down to her naval. She takes my left hand, guiding it to her smooth ribs, and I count them as I run my hands up and down them. Beth straddles me with each knee touching the outside of my thighs. She pulls my hand up within her button-up, placing it on her breast. Suddenly unsure, I freeze.

"Don't stop now." She whispers in the dark, her next kiss urging me forward with her warm, full lips. I pull her now bare top half to my chest and give her all the love I've saved up for no one.

**Please give me some suggestions if you have any! Also, spread the word if you like this story! Thanks you guys!**

**Rainbow**


	3. Rotten Oranges

**Alright, not my best chapter, but I sure hope you enjoy it! Special thank you to WalkerBait16, you are amazing, girl! Please read and review, and tell me what you think about the story so far. I am also open to any suggestions! Also, I am posting a soundtrack for this story on my profile, and I will also post the name of the chapter's song at the end of each chapter from now on. Sorry to ramble on, but please just tell me what you think!**

**Rainbow**

Three: Rotten Oranges

Beth

The back seat of the car becomes my home. We keep on driving, for months. Every time we stop, thinking we've found a place to stay, even for just a few nights, our plans fall through, and we are once again forced to leave. Each of us waits desperately for the day we can relax and not need to kill a walker. We are tired, we are hungry, and we are dwindling.

Our group ransacks abandoned houses for food and water, but we never stay in these houses. We sometimes take clothes from them, and blankets, and guns if they have them, but most of the people took their weapons when they were forced to flee. Most times, the residents of the households are still occupying their homes, and we have to shoot them. Sometimes there are too many to kill with the knives and the axes that we have, and guns are the only choice. The noise draws more geeks, and we are forced to grab what we need and escape again in our cars, driving far away from the walkers.

Sometimes Carl sits next to me in the backseat and sleeps against my shoulder. Other times, Kase will sit in the very back with Boots, and rub my shoulders. That was when the times were good, and they aren't like that anymore. Carl still sleeps next to me, but he is restless and mumbles about hunger in his sleep. I don't let Kase rub my shoulders anymore, and think only of how hungry I am. And I am not the same – there is no way I can look at Kase and not know this. And he doesn't know about it – no one knows about it. I don't know – I guess my brain just goes into a certain denial, like when Rick shot my mother's corpse and I went into shock.

"We're low on gas." Maggie says to Dad, who is in his usual spot in the passenger's seat. His crutches are in the back with Boots and Kase, who has made the large back of the car his domain. A blanket is strewn down for the dog, and Kase uses his body as a pillow, staring up at the ceiling. He hasn't spoken to anyone in a long time. "Maybe we should stop."

"We aren't getting far without it." Dad clears his throat, and his adam's apple goes down as he swallows the small bit of salvia left in his probably-dry mouth.

"I'll tell Dad." Carl picks up the large walkie-talkie that looks like the first cell phones from the 90s. He presses the button on the side and a static-like noise takes over the frequency as he talks. "Dad, Maggie says we're going to run out of gas."

Rick's voice comes back on the other side of the radio, fuzzy from the terrible signal. "So are we. Tell her to pull over and we'll look for some."

Maggie gently eases the car to the side of the empty highway, unbuckling her seatbelt. Kase opens the back hatch, sliding Dad's crutches out. Boots jumps out and stretches his legs on the pavement, groaning his dog-like noises, and shaking out his coat. Both Kase and his dog have grown noticeably thinner, and I can count Boots' ribs.

The others get out of their cars now, too, gathering together around Rick. Daryl swings his leg over his high-handled motorcycle, wrapping his poncho-like jacket over his tank top. Come to think of it, I have never seen Daryl wear a shirt with long sleeves, unless he has his wrap-around afghan. All I have been wearing are sweatshirts anyway.

"Tank's almost empty." Rick gently slides his arm around Lori's waist, planting a kiss on Judith's forehead. She is bigger, close to a year old now, and can start eating real food. The problem is, we don't have much food to give her, and her cries hurt all of us. Mostly, we all feel like crying. It has been a long 5 months driving, never ceasing, never settling down.

"'Cycle's runnin' on empty, too." Daryl leans against his motorcycle, crossing his arms. I can see my breath in the air, we are getting farther north, and the winter months are upon us. Whoever classified Georgia as one of the states that doesn't get cold, they are wrong. There isn't a time that my hands aren't cold. "Need ta find more gas."

"We could scout for food." Carol wraps her arms around her waist, shivering. She has on a knit cap, but her jacket it thin and provides hardly any warmth. "And warmer clothes." Carl tilts his hat up as she puts her arm around him from behind him, ruffling the hair on the back of his neck.

"It's getting dark." Dylin shivers, her teeth chattering. Her braces glint as her teeth click together, and she bites her blistered lips. There is no way to get the bands off of her teeth, and the metal is starting to rip, tearing the soft insides of her cheeks and lips apart. It hurts for her to talk. "What if something happens."

"Nothing will happen." Carol reassures her, resting her hand on Dylin's back gently. The two of them move closer to each other, sharing body warmth. "We'll search for clothes and such while the others extract the gas from the cars."

"I'll go with Beth." Carl steps forward, the tassels on his sheriff's hat glinting against the silver metal of the car he's leaning against, crossing his arms. "Don't worry, I can protect you." He looks at Kase directly, his eyes narrowed, eyebrows creased as he studies him. Since Kase and I have been getting closer, before I stopped talking to him, he has been over-the-top about protecting me, making a big deal about it.

"Alright, everyone check the cars." Rick clicks his shotgun into place, turning to Lori, who has Judith swaddled in a blanket. "No one out there alone, at least have a partner."

I follow Carl around a bend of abandoned cars, shivering inside of my thin jacket. He makes a big deal of slipping his gun out of its holster, pointing it around every corner of each car we make out way around. I pop the trunk open of an ugly, green minivan, sifting through the junk strewn about. It smells like fermented, rotting oranges, and my stomach twists with nausea.I put my hands on my knees, spitting onto the asphalt. Reflexively, I hold my stomach that is swimming at the stench, and I can feel my eyes watering with the rancid scent.

"Beth, are you okay?" I feel Carl's hand on my back, and I force myself back up, rubbing my side that is cramping up.

"Fine." I wipe the perspiration from my brow, holding my breath so I don't have to breathe in the smell. "Maybe you could look in that car over there?" I suggest, pointing to a rusty Volkswagen with one of its front doors open. "Looks like there may be something in there."

"Okay." Carl reluctantly retreats around the side of the abandoned car and starts prying the back hatch open. I still hold my breath, sifting through the junk in the back seat of the car. There is a suitcase already half-open and I lift the package from the car, sorting through the clothes. It was a woman who owned the contents of this suitcase, and she must have been a big fan of the color yellow. Yellow t-shirts, yellow sweatpants, even yellow sneakers. Something tells me she was of a younger age, maybe a teenager, like me.

I take out a sweatshirt, holding it up to me to figure the size. It is a little big, which is what I am searching for, and I slip it on, sighing at the warmth. It seems like just yesterday it was so warm. Just last week, I remember Carol was walking around in a tank top, putting lotion on her terrible, inflamed sunburn. In fact, it was last week, I remember, and I realize we must be farther north than I expected.

I gather more things out of the other surrounding cars, a few bottles of water, more clothes, a stale box of graham crackers, and a bag of chocolate chips I think Carl will enjoy. I am panting just carrying the small stock of items, as I've noticed that I have been having trouble lifting things the past month or so. I set the pile down on the ground, kneeling and trying to rub my back from behind, breathing in deep each time I hit the tender spot.

"Are you okay?" I hear Carl's voice, and I look up from my position to see his figure blocking the sun, half-covered by a cloud. I immediately right my body, feeling a terrible round of head rush closes out my vision, and I grab the car door as I go down. "Beth, whoa!"

"I'm alright." I close my eyes, counting to ten, breathing in another deep breath to calm myself. I can feel Carl beside me, hovering, trying to help. "Don't worry, I'm okay, help me sit down, please, Carl."

He puts his arm around my waist and helps me sit on the cold ground, leaning against the car. I open my eyes to his youthful face, looking to me with concern.

"Beth, what happened?" He looks me right in the eye, and I look down at the ground, my eyes flitting to my beat-up green converse. I have been wearing them since the outbreak, and there are rips in the canvas, and they are more brown then green.

"Nothing." I lie, picking up a stick and scratching it against the paint of the car. "It was nothing, Carl. I think I'm just thirsty, that's all."

"Here." He uncaps a plastic water bottle labeled "_Ice Mountain_" and hands it to me, his eyes that are the same shade as Rick's focusing on my face. I take the bottle, my hand shaking, and press the neck to my lips, managing to take a small sip.

"Thanks." I try to hand him back the bottle, but he shakes his head.

"Drink more." He demands, knowing firsthand how easy it is to lose hydration. "You hardly took a sip."

To satisfy him, I drink about a fifth of the bottle, and he caps it again for me. Like it is on cue, the pain I have been feeling lately shoots its way through my stomach, like a lightning bolt zigzagging downward through my innards.

"Ah!" I suck in my breath and hold my stomach, grimacing at the pain as it radiates through my insides, fading as fast as it had come.

"Beth!" Carl hisses, taking my hand. "Beth, please tell me what's wrong! You haven't been yourself since – "

Since I met Kase. Yes, I know, Carl.

"Don't tell anyone, Carl." I suddenly take his hand and hold it tightly in between the both of mine. He pulls away shocked, but I don't let him go.

"Don't tell anyone what, Beth?" His pupils shrink with fear. "Are you sick? Maybe I should tell my Dad, or get Hershel-"

"No!" I interject, swiping at a tear in my eye that topples at the edge of my eyelid, threatening to fall. "No, not my Dad."

"Just – tell me what's wrong then." Carl kneels in the gravel, his hands on his knees, hat tipped down to block the dim sunlight. "Do you have a fever? I can get you medicine."

Leave it to Carl to care. Of course he does, he is so much like his father. I take his hand again and pull him to me, and he lets me soak his shirt with my tears. He just rubs my shoulder as I silently let the tributaries of emotion slide down through the dirt caking my cheeks.

"Promise you won't tell anyone." I gasp through one of my final sobs. He nods, a sort of unspoken thing, and I know I can trust him. He has come to be a sort of best friend to me, ever since we were forced to flee the farm, especially since Jimmy was killed, and I have always sort of sensed his little amature crush on me.

"I promise." He says, no questions asked. If only it could be so simple as it is to Carl, only a mere kid. Well, truly he is an adult now, just in a kid's body. The apocalypse will do that to you.

"Okay." I sniffle and wipe my nose on my shirt sleeve around my wrist. He waits patiently as I inhale and exhale to get my breathing regular once again, and for my heart to stop racing. Slowly, while still holding his hand with my left, I lift my shirt up with my right, exposing the skin around my stomach. It is pushed out around my belly button, distended like someone's stomach might get when they are lactose intolerant and they have just drunken a gallon of milk. But my stomach is firm, hard, a protective layer, and is definitely growing. It has been for five months now.

Carl just stares at me, his eyes flashing from my abdomen to my face. I am sure I wear somewhat of a guilty look, or such, but his eyes are all shock. His mouth hangs open, too, and I want badly to tell him to close it.

"You're pregnant, and you haven't _told_ anyone?!" He hisses, his breath shortening and coming in quicker now. "Oh God, _Beth_-"

"Shhh!" I hush him, afraid someone nearby might hear us.

"Uhh-" he stammers, still staring at my raised stomach that is getting harder and harder to hide, lately especially. I am a fairly small person, and thankfully I am not showing so much, but soon I will be. "How – how long have you known?"

The first month on the road, I hardly noticed it. I would get tired, yes, but I figured it just to be fatigue. My body felt sore, but then again, it always did, and I thought nothing of it. I got sick a time or two, but so did Maggie a week or so before, so I figured I had just caught whatever bug she had.

After twenty odd days, I remembered my period. In the apocalypse, you sort of forget your regular cycle and how many days and all that, but I knew it had been enough time to start the cycle over again. Maggie, as always around the others, would slip me toiletries when she knew I was going to the bathroom, and she knew it had been over a month for me, too. Each time I pulled down my pants, nothing was there, and I would end up slipping the supplies back in the car, because I didn't want to waste it.

Around this time, I started having a hard time bending over. There was a hard spot in the way, beneath my belly button and well under the line of my pants, but still there all the same. It felt like I had swallowed a rock, and it had been planted in my womb, but by now I knew exactly what it was. I knew enough about anatomy to know what my body was doing; building a protective wall in my uterus to protect – I didn't even think the word.

I stopped talking to Kase then, in fear he could sense it about me, that a part of him was inside of my, by a twist of fate. He tried and tried to get me to talk, and it was hard to ignore him. He begged to tell me what was wrong took my hand and looked me right in the eye and asked me if there was something he had done, but I would always pull away and stop listening. When he finally figured out I was permanently shunning him, he stopped trying and stopped talking. We haven't spoken since then.

Over the next few months, my body changed even more. The hard layer below my belly button expanded, pushing itself out against my jeans, forcing me to wear baggier sweatshirts to hide my stomach. I haven't told anyone, not counting Carl right now, which I know is bad, and could send my health plummeting, but I don't think I could tell my Dad or my sister. I have been shunning the – thing – inside of me, but it will not let me rest.

"About four months." I whisper, leaning back and closing my eyes, pulling the shirt back over my growing stomach. "That means I'm – five months along."

Carl sucks in his breath, and I can almost see the gears turning in his brain. "Beth – when Mom was pregnant with Judith, she too vitamins and stuff. Maybe I can get you the same things – if we stop in a town somewhere, maybe I can sneak away and get you medicine-"

"I don't want to pull you into this, Carl." I tell him, groaning. I now think that it has been a bad idea to tell him.

"Beth, you're having a _baby_. You don't eat any, I _know_ you don't, and you're dehydrated. You need medicine, you have to eat, you're weak, Beth."

"I'm never hungry." I argue with him.

Carl sighs and kicks a rock against a car. "Who's the Dad?"

His words bring the memory back. The chemistry lab, on that beaten-up, worn in couch. He had been so pure, so beautiful in that light, the perfect person in my eyes.

"Beth." He whispers my name in the dark, pulling my face away from his to look at me a moment. His bright blue eyes shine on the darkness like a beacon of light in the blackness, and I lean in and kiss his eyelids.

"Kase." I simply breathe out his name, leaning in and brushing my lips against his forehead. He holds me close to his chest, and I feel something other than a boy's drive to make love. There is care in his arms, protectiveness, a feeling that has long been non-existent in my life.

His soft, warm lips, tasting of his own special flavor. His skin, the freckles on his shoulders, and the peppering of them on the bridge of his nose, the hard callouses of his palms as he strokes his hands down my shoulders, over my waist and down further to touch my calf and hitch it over his waist. It was more than just sex. It was something else – something exhilarating and fresh and new that I never wanted to end.

I shake the thoughts out of my head. I cannot remember that time in the classroom, but I am reminded of it every day by the stirring in my womb.

"Kase." I tell him quietly, crossing my arms over my stomach. "Kase is the father."

Carl pouts for a moment, nursing his bruised ego, due to his crush on me. I sigh and suddenly get the lightning bolt pain through my stomach again, and I groan softly, pushing my hand to the hard skin of my abdomen.

"What's wrong, Beth?" Carl kneels next to me, concern in his icy blue eyes.

"It just – hurts when it moves." I tell him, my eyes still closed.

"You feel it move already?" He looks down to my abdomen with curiosity.

"For a while now." I take his hand and pull it towards my stomach. When I first felt the small flutters in my womb, I denied it. I viewed it as a sickness, which is still do. A sickness I can't get rid of for another four months. "It hurts when it moves. A lot."

"Can I feel?" Carl's thin eyebrows knit together, and I reach for his hand. I pull his calloused hand to the side of my rounding stomach, and wait for another painful movement. A moment later, a powerful kick pounds my insides, and Carl pulls away his hand in shock as I lean back and recover from the heavy blow.

"It's strong." I whisper, weak from the pain.

"When Mom had Judith, Judy never hurt her like that. Something's wrong." He stands up again, pacing, a trait he inherited from his father. "What if something's wrong and it hurts you. That'll be my fault for not telling anyone."

"No, nothing will happen." I struggle to stand up, using the car for leverage, and Carl grabs my arm to help me stand. "I'm fine, Carl, don't baby me."

"You need to be babied." He interjects, putting his hand on my shoulder. God, does he remind me of Rick right now, and more so as each day passes. "Beth, Mom had a lot of care before Judith was born. I can fake a sickness or something, maybe if we stop to get medicine, I could sneak away and grab you some…"

I am distracted from his heist plans by a stirring in my womb, a heavy blow like a hammer to my gut. I close my eyes, willing it to pass, but my own spawn kicks my insides again, making me cringe and grit my teeth.

"Beth?" I can sort of hear Carl's voice, like it is a distance away and I am hearing him with cotton stuffed in my ears. I hold my stomach tightly, my nails digging into the fabric of my sweatshirt, and I suddenly get the heavy urge to throw up, stronger than I have ever felt, even more powerful than when I had the stomach flu as a child.

"I'm-" I try to say that I'm okay, but I know that I am not. There is something wrong inside me, I can feel it, that the seed planted within me, under the hard layer of skin and protection is not a normal one. Pain racks my abdomen as I lean over into the gravel and spit a mucus-like, black substance into the grass, my stomach heaving again and again as it forces more rounds of bile up my throat. My bloated midriff sucks in and out around the hard, rounding bulge as I heave violently, the black substance trickling down my face.

I can tell Carl gets up and runs, probably to get help, but I just keep on heaving, my body hurting, enduring the pain. It is probably my body rejecting the thing growing inside of me, like a person's body might reject a new liver after a transplant. This is miserable, this is what I must live with now.

I should have killed myself when I had the chance.

Daryl

My boots crunch in the turned-up gravel as I stride down the road, making a noise like I am stepping on top of piles of bones. The girl, Dylin, skips along quietly behind me, seeming like she has a natural silent hunting tread. She has her hair in pigtails, like Beth sometimes does, and she is annoying the piss out of me with her _"hop*skip*jump, hop*skip*jump." _

"I can take care 'a myself, ya know." I turn around to face her, my crossbow smacking hard against my side. "I ain't no babysitter."

"I'm 15." She states proudly, her head held high as she pushes her cracked glasses up her girly little nose. She doesn't have a Georgia accent, so she must be from up north. "I don't need a babysitter. I want to contribute to this group."

I roll my eyes, stomping back along the trail. "And what does the Wizard of Oz think about this?"

"Ozzy doesn't know." She stops to lean against a twisted piece of metal to re-lace her yellow sneaker. "And what about Carol, does she know you're off on your own?"

"Carol ain't my mom." I spit in the dusk, taking an arrow in my mouth so I can stretch the bow string back. This kid is annoying, she's got no right to flounce right in and pretend she thinks Carol cares for me. "And you ain't my kin, neither, so get lost."

The dumb bitch doesn't pay any mind, just scuffs a rock with her toe, which goes hurtling down a ravine, bouncing off the rock in a loud echo, skipping on her marry way like she's friggin' Shirley Temple or somethin'.

"_Jesus_, girl! You tryin' to attract every fucking walker within mile's distance?!" I yell as the sound of the rock keeps on bouncing back and forth and back and forth down the ravine.

"Sorry!" She impishly squeals, jumping away from my angry bow-swinging.

"I oughta shoot you and skin your hide, just to get rid of ya before you become some son of a bitch's midnight snack!" I point the empty crossbow at her forehead, but she doesn't even flinch. She simply smoothes her hair back gently behind her ears, paying no attention to my threats. "Hey, are you listenin' at all, girl?!"

"I'm listening, Mr. Buckwheat, but it isn't soaking in." Dylin hops on one foot down the lane, grinning to herself. "Possibly because "ain't" isn't proper English."

I ignore her and start whistling a random tune, taking longer strides so she can't keep up with me in any way.

"Where are you going, anyway?" She jogs up alongside me, her thin jacket flapping in the breeze as she keeps up. "Are you leaving Rick and the others behind?"

""If I was gonna, don'tcha think I woulda done that a long while ago." I stop taking so big steps, and go back to my normal paced strides. "Not like they need me no more." She has no idea I'm thinking of the times when we first ended up on Hershel's farm, in the midst of Carl being shot and Sophia being lost.

"Why don't you run now?" She stops for a moment to readjust her spectacles that are much too big for her tiny face, and basically useless now that only one lens remains. She's basically been rompin' around with only one eye able to see, like a God damn pirate. "You could just go, right now."

I stop abruptly, and she easily takes a few steps ahead of me, her sneakers crunching quietly on the gravel.

"What crack pipe are you smokin', girl?" I spin on my heals, thrusting my finger near her nose. She leans back like she is a snake ready to strike, though she is careening away from me. "Ya'll really think I'd up and leave those people? They've been with me since the beginnin', and ain't nothin' gonna change that."

"Don't get defensive on my, Redneck, I'm just pointing something out. Ozzy's too into his dog's to care 'bout me, and Kase's got something going on with Beth."

"This ain't a soap opera." I roll my eyes again and stick my tongue on the side of my cheek. "If ya'll want it to be, you can go let the 13 year old boy getcha pregnant."

"Sorry, I think I'm remembering too much about Degrassi from my high school days."

"What the Hell is that?"

"Never mind." She shakes her head, pulling her pigtails out of their elastics, playing with the stretchiness with her teeth. I've never had braces, but it most literally bite to have them on permanently like this girl does. "I guess I'm just asking for you to take me away from this all, you know? I don't belong here."

I don't answer her a long time, just keep on walking, looking for anything we can use. The group is getting farther and farther away, but I keep on walking, this little girl at my side.

"And what makes ya think that you'll find a place to belong out there?" I toss my free arm out at my side, rubbing my finger under my nose. "Trust me, kid, I found that out the hard way."

"I don't know." Dylin shrugs. "I thought maybe you could just – give me more than what we have here."

"Huh. And what _do _we have here?" Looking sideways at the young girl, she catches my eye with a glint in her dark pupil. "Don't mean ta rain on your parade, but I could be your Daddy."

"Not in _that_ way." She grumbles, trying to talk around her mouth full of braces. "And that's gross, no offense. I'd never take you from Carol."

I kick a tuft of shriveled grass in annoyance. "What makes ya think Carol's got some sorta claim on me?" When the girl stops, I pick up a stick and flip open my knife, witling it slowly into an arrow using clean, sharp strokes on the blade.

"I don't know." She shrugs, sitting down on her butt across from me. Why won't this stupid bitch just leave me alone? She won't stop following me like some damn lost puppy, and I'm about to send her on her merry freakin' way with her tail between her legs. This is the sort of job a man does alone. "You protect her, she takes care of you."

"That's the way a group works." I look up from my chunk of wood, licking a bit of sap off the branch. I can feel the dim sun beating down on my back, the rays touching my skin through my worn and dirty shirt. We've learned all too harshly that sunburn can happen even if the clouds are covering the sun. And it isn't too pleasing to watch a 7 month old little girl suffer from it, neither. Judith was miserable with her soft, baby skin peeling, and us with no lotion of nothin' to give her.

"I guess I'm just not familiar with the concept." As I try to walk away again, she clumsily gets up again, stumbling so her face goes into the gravel. Reflexively, I grab her so she doesn't face-plant into the rocks, and straighten her out. "I guess I thought wrong then, Daryl."

I shrug and continue to strut down the road, farther and farther away from her. She is still right there, along with me, panting. Her lips are cracked and broken, I can see it because her bottom one has split, and she is bleeding all down her chin. "Stop." I tell her, because she's fucking bleeding all over the place and about to attract every damn walker within 10 miles radius. "What the Hell you tryin' to do, get all 'a us killed?!"

"Sorry." She whispers, crying now, her salty tears mixing in with the red blood. "Sorry – ow!" she exclaims when she touches the end of her shirt sleeve to her swollen lip.

"For the love of mother fuc-"

"Daryl!" Dylin yells, skidding to the ground like she is ducking and covering for an atomic bomb. And now I see why; there is a walker lumbering a few feet away from her, probably having snuck up from behind while we were talking. It's a pretty rotten bastard, his arm half hanging off its shoulder, mange destroying half of his face like moss spreading on a decomposing tree. He's going for the girl again, making groaning noises like he hasn't eaten in days, a noise I have grown much too accustomed to.

"Get outta the way!" I yell to her, which is idiotic because the thing is already on top of her, clawing at her face, knocking her mangled glasses away and getting the blood from her lip all over his clothes. She screams in a high-pitched like she's trying to see damn opera or something, and I aim my bow, shooting the bastard square in the head. Dylin slowly gets up, recovering from her attack, shaking and holding her sleeve over her still-gushing lip.

"You're alright." I spit at her. "And for the love of Jesus Christ, keep that wound covered up!"

She starts crying, sitting down against one of the abandoned cars and folding her chicken arms over her equally skinny-ass chicken legs and sobs into her boney-as-Hell kneecaps. "I hate it down south." She cries, spitting blood when she does. Oh great, a trail she's gonna leave for the biters. "Oz and Kase and I – we were just fine on our own when we were in the northern states. Why'd all you people have ta ruin it?!"

"Ain't my say." I put my heavy boot on the head of the walker I just killed, using it as leverage to pull the arrow out of his skull. The sharp, pointed object comes away sticky and wet with black tinted blood, a sure sign of brain-deadness. "If ya'll don't like the way we do things down here, then go back where ya came from. The same interstate that brought you down here will bring it back."

She doesn't stop her wailing, just shudders her tiny body back into a ball and sorta rocks back and forth. She kinda reminds me of a cousin I had, or once had. Somethin' wasn't right in the head with her, and she did a lotta sittin' and rockin'. Merle liked to tease her, but I left her alone alright.

I sit to wait out her tantrum, searching the corpse for anything useful. He doesn't have much on him; his ID, which I don't look at, a few crumpled dollar bills in his shirt pocket and a chain with a key around it. I throw the other items aside, but put the key in my pocket. The girl doesn't stop, even to take a breath, it seems like, and I just keep on waiting, occasionally peeking up at her. And then our plans are interrupted.

I shoot the first walker that ambles out of the woods easily. She goes down like a boulder, too, square in the eye. But when I leave Dylin to get the arrow back from the thing's skull, I hear a groaning noise from behind me, and fingers cling to my bare arm. I have my knife out quicker than a wink, and it is embedded in his forehead before he can rip his rotten teeth into my flesh.

"Get up!" I yell to Dylin who is now frantically scrambling away from another walker. She is on top of her, grabbing at her, smelling the blood running over her entire face. "Get the _hell _up!"

She screams instead of listening and I swoop in like a jack rabbit out of hell and kill the thing.

"It scratch you?" I pant, aiming my crossbow at another approaching walker and the arrow makes a squelch noise as it touches the thing's brain.

"No." she sobs, cowering behind me. More walkers are approaching now, surrounding on all sides. "Usually Oz and Kase take care of the wayfarers. Or the dogs."

"You know how to fight?" I thrust the knife blade into her hand, taking out another walker with the bow.

She shakes her head, whimpering.

"Time to learn." I growl to her, sucking in my breath, seeing all the walkers that are now surrounding us, closing in at a shockingly quick pace. I only have four arrows left, and the girl had my knife.

I take out the first walker by using my sharpest arrow as sort of a makeshift knife, stabbing it into its head and yanking it out again. By this time, another one is closing in, and it can smell Dylin' blood that she now has no control over. She looks clueless with my knife, and I jam my arrow into the closest thing's head, and then shoot another one at the one's head that is attacking her.

"Come on!" I yell to her, motioning in the air with my hand for her to run through the crowd of walkers.

"I can't!" she cries, and I think about how great it would be if someone could come help me now. "Daryl!"

I watch as she goes down under the zombie, blindly slashing with the knife at the rotter. She screams and cries, hardly keepin' the thing off of her with her weak arms. With an exasperated sigh, I charge through the crowd of the killers. But I am not going to make it to her in time. There is no way.

They are all around us.

I keep on fighting, hardly noticing as the grey, beat-up Impala pulls up besides the girl, screeching to a halt. I look up from my latest kill, watching as a pair of hands emerges from the now-open door. The hands have a knife with gets left in the geek's head as they pull Dylin into the vehicle. Through the crowd of hungry walkers drives the brave car, and the door opens again, grabbing my arm. I fight against it hard, taking my arrow still in my hand and stabbing it towards the dark insides of the car.

My arrow comes away bloody, following a deep-throated scream from the passenger's side of the car. Before I can kill whoever is taking the girl, a bag goes over my head.

It is dark, and I can't see anything. Something sharp and cold pokes me harshly in the arm, and my senses start to fade to nothingness. I have never been weak. I have never been helpless. I am strong Daryl, I am the man who keeps the others safe, the one who looked for Sophia the most, the one who keeps the group fed. But now, I can't do nothin' but let the pair of strong arms pull me into the car.

**Don't forget to tell me what you think! Reviews would be lovely! The song for this chapter is titled "Black Leaf Falls" by Seawolf. It is geared more towards the Beth part of the chapter and her relationship with Kase. Enjoy, and if there are any song suggestions, that would also be great! **

**Rainbow**


	4. Don't Call Me Doctor

**Hey guys! Sorry it has been so long since I last updated, but I promise I will do better with updating from now on! So, on a lighter note, please don't forget to review and tell me what you think! That would really be awesome, and thanks to the awesomest person in the world, WalkerBait16, for all the help! Love ya girl!**

Four: Don't Call Me Doctor

Lori

As soon as Carl comes running, yelling for us, Rick grabs for his gun, followed by Glenn and Maggie, who knows that her sister was left with him. I take Judith, who is now dressed in fresh clothes, courtesy of a blue Hyundai and a pink suitcase, and hitch her up on my hip, hurrying after Rick and Carl, who is spitting out the story to his father. Obviously, we all have our weapons out; worrying about walkers, but something tells me this is not a walker attack. Beth has not been herself lately, and I worry she has cracked from whatever is ailing her these past few months.

"What is it?!" Maggie yells to Carl, who is sprinting around the parked cars, dodging an open door. "Is it my sister?! Where's Beth?"

"Something happened!" I can no longer see Carl, he is behind a clump of cars, but there is a retching noise and the sound of Beth's gasping sobs. "She just started throwing up!"

I round the side of the car, stepping in a thick, gel-like, black liquid, squishing it under my boot. Maggie is already down in the mess, holding her sister, who is gasping, her mouth lined with a black stain. I gasp, and Judith begins to cry at the sight. Carol takes her from me, and I kneel down next to Beth, who is doing more crying now than throwing up.

"Did you eat something?" I wipe her hair off her sweaty forehead, and she leans into me, holding her stomach.

"No." She softly whimpers, kneeling over herself in pain. Maggie looks to me, her eyes wide and afraid. By now, Hershel has hobbled up on his crutches, and the rest of our group, minus Daryl and the little girl Dylin who went to search for refuge down the road, are peering around the car.

"Beth, please tell us." Maggie attempts to placate her, putting her hands on her sisters shoulders. "We have to help you."

Beth splutters and spits up more black goo, beginning to cry again.

"She's pregnant." Carl stands a few feet behind Maggie, scuffing a rock with the toe of his shoe. He looks down, like his shoes are the most interesting thing he's seen in a long time.

"What did you just say?" I stand up, tilting his chin up with my finger. "Carl, tell me."

"She – she just told me a while ago." He looks away, his eyes that are much like his father's averting my gaze. "She's pretty far along, Mom."

I kneel down again on the asphalt, staring at Beth, who I cannot believe would have done something like this. While Maggie holds her, I press my hands to her abdomen, feeling for that hardness I might recognize from when I was expecting Judith. Her stomach is hard, and with both hands, I feel how it is rounder and pushed out away from her body.

"Beth, oh, honey-" I can hardly even say the words, because I'm not sure what I will even say to her. Maggie just stares, a crazy look in her eyes.

"You're _pregnant_?!" She yells, and if anyone didn't know, they all do now. Maggie's eyes dart around, looking like she is desperately trying to put together the story for herself. Her gaze lands on Hershel, who looks more shocked than anyone, and then finally drifts to Kase.

"You." She hisses through her teeth. "_Oh_, no. _OH_, no. Not you, _NO_."

"Maggie." I rest my hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs it away, never stopping to look at Kase. The kid looks scared, his electric blue eyes watery and shocked, staring down at the bump protruding from Beth's body.

"Don't." She tells me in one shorts quick breath. "Oh, God, no. Kase – no."

"Maggie…" Kase starts to back away from her, and refuses to meet Hershel's eyes. "Maggie, let me explain."

"You'll explain _SHIT_!" Maggie dives for the boy, and I can't grab her in time. Her nails dig into his face before he can get away from her grasp, and I hold Beth to me as she sobs.

"Don't hurt him!" She cries, burying her face into my shoulder. "He didn't mean any harm. Maggie, don't touch him!"

"Maggie!" Glenn yells and grabs her by her waist to yank her off of Kase. The stunned-looking kid straightens up, putting his guard on, and glares at Maggie, and then back to Beth in pure horror. "The Hell?!"

"That bastard got my _sister_ pregnant!" She yells, flailing in his arms, but Glenn's gentle force keeps her in check. "Dad, are you hearing this?!"

Hershel looks too stunned to do anything. He is leaning on his crutches, and Rick is looking at him in concern, like he might just topple over if no one is looking. In fact, it is looking like he might do just that, with his pupils dilated, his youngest daughter on the ground, holding her round-with-child stomach, and his older daughter trying to kill the father of his grandchild. Overall, his face looks sad, weakened.

"I'm hearing it." Hershel finally speaks. "But I'm hoping it's a dream."

"Daddy, I'm sorry." Beth whimpers from her slumped position on the ground. "It was a long time ago, Daddy, I didn't think anything would happen. Oh God, I don't feel good, and I haven't in so long."

"Bethie?" Hershel goes into father mode, and hobbles a few feet closer on his crutches as Ozzy makes a space for him to come through. "Bethie, just calm down. Before we can do anything, we need to find some things out, alright?"

"Isn't like she'll tell us anything!" Maggie lunges for Kase again, this time hitting him right in the stomach. Caught off-guard, he bends inwards towards his stomach, moaning as Maggie gets him once more in the groin. "She kept it a damn secret for – what – 4 months 'Bethie?!'" Her angry tone of voice mocks her father's, and Ozzy swoops in and helps Kase up, and I half expect him to start in on him just as Maggie had. He has that angry, crazed look in his eyes.

"Five." Beth whispers, holding her stomach in anguish. "Stop yelling at me, Maggie, just – stop." She heaves under my arms around her, like she is short of breath, and she wheezes again.

"Honey, are you alright?" I look at her face that is pale and sweaty, her dry lips stained with the black liquid. "Hershel, what's the matter with her?"

"Move aside, Lori." Hershel crutches next to Beth, and Glenn and Rick help him down next to his youngest daughter who is panting and crying. "Beth, it's going to be alright."

"Daddy, I feel it moving." She sobs, removing her hand from over the fabric of her light green shirt across her stomach. Every now and then, her skin pulsates, like something is pushing it up. "It hurts, it hurts."

"It isn't normal." Hershel turns around to get another look at Kase, Beth's lover at some time, and looks him over like he may hold the answer.

"Is there something wrong with the baby?" Carl chokes out, still standing a few feet back. His hat is tipped down, but I can see he is trying hard not to cry at Beth's pain. "Is it because it's infected?"

"I don't know." Hershel says. "Kase, do you know anything about this?"

"I didn't even know – " Kase is panting also, sitting on the ground with his head between his knees, in pain from Maggie's unexpected blows. "I swear. It was one time, a long time ago. It's my fault, don't blame Beth. It's my fault…"

"Dame _straight_ it is." Maggie pushes her hair up straight back with her fingers, hissing through gritted teeth. "You're gonna _wish _you were –"

"Maggie." Hershel gives her a warning glance and he presses his fingers into Beth's stomach, and she whimpers, gripping my hand.

"Thank you." Beth cries to her father as he presses his fingers near her belly button. "Daddy-"

"Be quiet." Hershel demands. "Just because this happened, doesn't make me forgive you Beth. It's best if you just stay quiet now, so I don't get angry."

"How far – along is she?" Rick asks, scratching the scruff on his chin with stress. I can tell the last thing he wants, or the last thing any of us need, is another pregnancy on the road. It's something we never expected to happen, ever again. Judith was a mistake, a blessed mistake, but still unplanned, and growing up around walking corpses. Beth once asked me how I could even do it, stay pregnant with Judy, and she couldn't fathom it at the time. Now I am the only one who can fully support her now, I know what it is like to have it happen to me.

"Five months." Carl says without raising his head.

"Five months." Hershel mutters under his breath. "There could be some serious problems. Weakness, infection…"

Beth and Maggie simultaneously whimper and growl, and I hug Beth to my body. She is refusing to make eye contact with her father, and especially not Kase, who is still in shock with his head between his knees. Maggie wasn't easy on him, and it looks like he is trying not to throw up.

"This isn't right." Hershel rubs his fingers on his unshaven face, his small mouth turned over in a sad frown. "Something's wrong."

"Can't you get it out?" Beth looks up, her light eyes red with tears.

"This is your baby." Hershel explains in his fatherly, disappointed tone. "You have to deal with the consequences."

Meredith

"Put that window down." Julius spins the wheel in a clockwise motion, spinning the rusty, red pickup in a wide U-turn, causing me to be slammed into the inside of the car door. "Smells like fucking death in here."

I crank the window with the ancient roller, watching the corpses roll past as we speed away. The newer, better-looking Impala follows us as we speed down the road.

"This your first time out on top?" Julius lights a cigarette and begins to chain smoke.

"Yes." I tell him, peering back at Joetta, who is driving the car behind us. Next to her, in the passenger's side, is a man I am familiar with named Pat. "Are the – are the people okay?"

He waves his hand in the air, wafting the smoke around, which I try hard not to inhale. "Huh, the one with the bowie knife and pigtails? They're fine, gotta transfer them, though, put

'em in the back."

"I meant to say was, Are they hurt?"

"Ah, you and your "doctor" terms, "Doctor" Meredith."

I shiver, peering once again behind me. Julius jerks the car over the shoulder of the road, which is an odd thing to do, especially since we are out of the throng of the dead, and the road is deserted. Joetta stops the car a few feet behind us and gets out of the car, followed by Pat.

"They're a'wakin'." Joetta drawls in her heavy southern accent, gritting her teeth to display the gap between her front teeth. "Time ta put 'em somewhere they can't hurt no one, if ya know what I mean, Jules."

"Aw, I know." Julius rolls his eyes, lighting another cigarette with his red lighter. "Last time that guy tried ta claw me in the eyeballs."

"Just help me with them." Joetta opens the backseat where the girl and man are sprawled in the backseat on top of one another. "Dr. Klein, you got those sleepy strips?"

I pull the morphine tabs from out of my shoulder bag, tearing the plastic off from around one. Pat lifts up the girl, the one with the pigtails and cracked glasses, easily carrying her in his arms, and leaves the heavy lifting of the man to Julius. Both of them look rugged, smudged with dirt and grime, clothes in tatters, hair a greasy mess, not far from what I've seen from the other outsiders.

"Guy had this with 'im." Joetta opens the trunk of the Impala and pulls out a crossbow, loaded with a pointed arrow with fluorescent yellow tips. "Don't know who hoss is, but he sure as hell knew how to survive out there."

"Girlfriend?" Julius struggles to drag the man's body across the road strip, and after laying the girl's body down in the back of the truck, Pat returns to help him.

"Too young." I suggest, climbing up inside the square case of the truck to examine the girl, make sure she doesn't have any bites. Her mouth is twitching slightly, like she is trying to mumble tolerable words, and her braces catch the light of the dimming sun. "Think they've got a bigger group?"

"Nah." Pat hands the crossbow to Julius, who pretends to point it at Joetta, who is not amused. "They would have helped them in a mob as big as that."

"No bites on this one." I move onto the girl's partner, who is now lying next to her. He looks pretty rough, but he is muscular, and doesn't look too horribly malnourished. When he face is slack like this, he looks young, but I would guess his age to maybe be around 30, maybe a little more. It is fairly cold with winter approaching, yet he is wearing a torn tank top, obviously a regular shirt he ripped himself. When I check his body over, I notice a tattoo on his back of what appears to be two demons fighting, inked in heavy black lines.

"Put them to night-night, and let's get going, then." Julius lights yet another cigarette. He must feel deprived, it has been so long since he has been allowed to smoke.

"Will they be comfortable enough back here?" I ask, holding the girl's jaw open gently, and slipping the morphine tab underneath her tongue. After a moment, she goes slack, and I do the same to the man.

"Jesus Christ, woman, they're fine. What's with you damn doctors, flappin' all around and makin' sure your patients are "comfortable." I'll tell ya what, girl, I ain't been comfortable in over a year, and that's the best of times." Julius puffs his smoke in a ring towards me, and I climb down from the back of the truck.

"You'll be crying to me when you get lung cancer." I throw back at him, coughing on his throat-stinging smoke. "Don't come complaining when your lungs are black!"

Julius cracks up, getting in the driver's side again, not taking my warning seriously. As he is pulling away, I hear him shake his head and mutter "What a way to go."

It begins to get dark after maybe an hour as we drive, and it is fairly quiet. Julius turns on one of his favorite cassette tapes, the only thing the car can take, and he sings along like a drunken seal to Roy Orbison for a while. After the fourth-time-through "lovely" ballad of "Crying," he finally turns it off and changes his cigarettes to chewing tobacco. I hold my breath until we begin to slow, and the headlights reflect upon the chain-link wire fences. Two men pull them open, and we drive through, onto the grass of the stadium lawn.

Julius stops the car in the darkness and gets out. I open my own door and jog around the back to make sure our refugees are still out like a light, which they are, and I climb up into the trunk bed to make sure they haven't gotten a concussion from all of the bouncing around.

"Home sweet home." Pat whispers in the dark, flipping on a flashlight so we can see in the darkness. I only have a light jacket on, and I can see my breath, and my body is violently shivering to keep my warm. "Home sweet home" happens to be beneath our feet right now. We stand on top of one of the world's most successful and secret laboratories in the world, located underneath a large football stadium. At least it was when I worked there before the dead began walking the earth. Now a group of us, maybe 50 or so, live underground, away from the light, and every now and then we bring people in for testing. Being a doctor, I am most trusted, but also mocked by the less-educated subjects the Boss keeps around for the heavy lifting, like Julius.

"Help me get these two out." I open each of their mouths and fish out the morphine tabs that have been keeping them asleep. Pat lifts the girl out, and slips a burlap sack over her head, carrying her in his muscular arms. I help get the man out, and Julius and Joetta each take either his feet or his hands and carry him in that awkward position. In the dark, another man, whose name is Damien, comes out of the darkness, pushing a wheelbarrow and holding a smaller flashlight between his teeth.

"Figured you might need this." He winks in Joetta's direction, and she blushes, even visible in the dim light cast by the flashlight. "Got us a couple 'a good ones, huh?"

"Better than most." Julius talks around the cigarette he is holding between his front teeth. "Guy's able-bodied, had the girl with 'im. Found 'em 'bout 40 miles from here, fightin' a load of corpses on their own. Saved their lives, if anything."

"They'll be waking up sooner or later, if we don't get them below ground." Damien rests the pegs of the wheelbarrow down in the grass, and he and Pat heave the man into the wheelbarrow. Julius picks up the girl, who was laid on the ground to lift the man, and begins to carry her in long strides. I walk next to Joetta, shivering to keep warm, my breath coming out like the smoke of a fire-breathing dragon.

"Winter's comin'." She comments, shivering herself. She puts her arm around me and huddles into my light green coat I borrowed from her. This must be her 100th trip above ground, but this is only my second since we took cover in the laboratory. The first time, biters had covered the entire field, and the Boss needed everyone able-bodied to help clear them out. I stood back while a husky, muscular woman, named Darlene, showed me how to kill the corpses. I only nabbed a few while she covered my ass, and after it was cleared and blocked off, I was designated to stay under ground to help with the medical procedures, and the vaccine the Boss suggested I work on.

"It was warm the last time I was out." I remember vaguely the touch of sunlight to my skin with sadness.

"You'll be below ground a while after this." She smiles, like her words are supposed to comfort me. Of course, we have made it fairly comfortable in the lab, converted a few of the larger rooms into a men's and women's sleeping quarters, and I even have a room to myself where studies can be performed. We keep it warm and heated in these colder months, and the air conditioner is still able to kick in full power when we need it, but it becomes claustrophobic with the weight of the ground constantly above you, and though we haven't had a cave-in yet, there's always the possibility.

"That's supposed to comfort me?" I laugh slightly, pausing to wait for Pat to open the small door leading into a ramp that will take us into our underground home. He holds it open for us all, and shuts and bolts it tightly after himself.

We make our way after turning our flashlights off down the corridor that is now lit up with lights one either side. This is the back way to go, because most of the people living here don't understand about the outside world, they would be disturbed if they saw us wheeling two dead-looking bodies through the rec room. Instead, Damien steers door the corridor with his wheelbarrow and straight around the back to my office, and Julius sets down the girl on the doctor's table.

"Where you want the guy?" Damien raises his bushy, dark eyebrows.

"A few rooms over would be nice." I reply, slipping my large, rectangular glasses on and taking the girl's pulse. "And make sure he's restrained."

"Yes ma'am." He bobs his head and wheels down the hallway, followed by Joetta, who is obviously a member of his fan club. Julius lumbers off as well, probably to find his wife, Victoria, who is due to give birth any day now. Their child will be the first new addition to our group, and possibly the first child conceived in the apocalypse.

"Do you need help, Dr. Klein?" Pat politely nods his head to me, twiddling his thumbs as he waits for my answer.

"Oh, no, Pat, thank you." I blush, pushing my glasses up with embarrassment. "You can go back to your daughter."

"I'll send the Boss in." He speed-walks down the hall in order to find his young child, a little girl named Sheila, and I smile as he goes. It's good to know that some people have family left, even if I don't.

The girl lying on the table is stirring, her lips twitching again, and I take her hand and hold it for a moment. It is warm, and her palm is sweaty, but I give it a little squeeze, just to let her know that I am here. I roll my swivel chair over the sink and wet a cloth with warm water, rolling back, and beginning to wipe her dirty face with it after taking off her cracked glasses.

"Mm-mm." I jump as someone clears their throat in the doorway, and turn around quickly.

"Sorry." I put my hand over my heart, willing it to calm down and stop beating so hard.

"You're too easy to sneak up on, Meredith." The Boss smiles, his arms crossed, leaning against the doorway. He is wearing a button-up plaid shirt, but it is undone at the top, and it appears the last time he shaved was this morning, because all he has is a soft layer of peach fuzz that is already growing back.

"The apocalypse does that to you, I hear." I turn back to the patient and continue cleaning her body again. Her eyelids begin to flutter, but they don't open yet.

"Hmm." He agrees, pushing his hands up through his sandy blond hair. "Julius tells me you've got two of them to work on, picked them up couple 10 miles from here?"

"Yes sir."

"Call me Ty, Meredith."

"Yes Ty."

"I trust that these people will be in good hands, then?" He bites his lower lip, a habit I've noticed he's had ever since I've known him. "And that you'll do what you have to do?"

"Yes." I answer.

"I'll leave you to your work, then." He turns to leave, his dirt-covered boots squeaking on the hard linoleum floor. "And thank you, Meredith."

"Boss, this was my job before all of this happened." I look him straight in the dark brown eyes, offering a small smile. "Don't let yourself think a few walking corpses could stop me."

He laughs going down the hall as I turn back to my work. The girl is stirring stronger now, and I take the opportunity to tie the band around her twig-like upper arm to expose her vein, and insert a needle into her main vein to apply a steady, slow drip of watered down morphine. The poor girl mumbles in her sleep as I insert the needle, and I feel my lips pull down in a frown as she does. She tries to speak, and I lean down next to her ear to try and hear what she says, but it is intolerable.

"It's alright, sweetheart." I tell her, stroking over her hair gently. "Can you just tell me your name?"

"Dy-Dylin." She croaks out, her eyes opening slightly.

"My name's Dr. Klein, Dylin." I tell her. "If you cooperate nicely, things will go well. If they don't – we'll move onto your friend in the other room."

She nods her head, a tear squeezing out of her bloodshot eye. I feel a lump well in my throat, but I hold it back, taking her hand again.

"You have an IV drip in, and it will make you sleepy, but I'll keep talking to you, alright? Blink twice for yes, you'll be feeling a little sluggish."

Two blinks.

"Alright, I'm going to take a little blood, alright? You might feel light-headed, but I'll be right here."

Two blinks again.

I snap on a pair of latex gloves and slip the cap off the sharp needle. The dim light in the room casts a gleam over the sharp object, and I pinch my two fingers where I will be drawing blood in her skin, and insert the needle. I draw the syringe out slowly, withdrawing a large amount of blood from her wrist.

"Almost done." I draw out the words as I take the needle out and transfer her blood to a small cooler. Underneath the desk in the room, there is a small fridge, and I put her blood in it in its special package.

"Wh-what are you going to do to me." Dylin whimpers, her mouth turned down in a sad pout. She looks so scared, it breaks my heart, and I pray that this time, compared to the last few experiences, this works on her.

"I'll be injected a serum into your bloodstream." I explain, taking a cotton swab and taping it down over her bleeding needle prick. "Hopefully, it will work."

"What does it-" she chokes, and I rest my hand on her arm in comfort. She is shivering and quaking, and goose bumps are raised on her skin.

"What does it do?" I slide my chair over to the refrigerator again and extract a black sample from another tube. "Hopefully, immunize you against the roamers out there."

"Has is – worked?" She croaks, nearly choking on her tongue, being so sluggish with the morphine.

I shake my head, turned away from her when I bow my head and shamefully answer. "No."

There is a sniffling noise as she begins to cry; probably knowing what will happen to her if my immunization doesn't work. Tears stream down her face, and she is silent for a long time. I ask her to roll over after a while, following the period where I test her blood type, which is B+, and I pull up her dirty shirt to inject the antidote into the flow of her spinal fluids. She cringes and bites her lip when I begin injecting, because I know that this is a very painful procedure, and when I am done, I allow her to rest a while.

"We'll just let that sit a few hours, alright, Dylin?" I ask her, and she nods, still turned over from the injections. A bruise is forming where I last had the needles in, and I immediately feel terrible for the girl. She can't be very old, hardly in her teens, with small curves, possibly from malnourishment, and she straps of her shirt are basically falling off her boney shoulders. I still have her glasses resting on the counter, and I pick them up, sticking them in the pocket of my white lab coat.

I walk down the hallway that is lit with fluorescent light bulbs, my white tennis shoes padding on the government-issued blue and grey carpet. I stuff my hands in my pockets, feeling an unwelcome chill, and I shiver inside my thin lab coat.

"Dr. Klein." I turn the corner to meet a young woman, Elsie, who is holding her young son, Jacob, on her hip. She is in her early twenties, and she is alone in this, her husband was killed during the outbreak. "Everything alright?"

"Just fine, El." I smile reassuringly, always the doctor's job. "How's Jake? Did he eat his breakfast this morning?"

I can tell she feels comfort, and hikes the toddler up her hip. "He's alright, aren't you, buddy?" Jacob's mother pokes him in the chubby belly, and the child giggles. "He ate an entire orange earlier. I think Boss's underground crop system is working."

"Good." I tell her, sliding past her in the hall. "Eat lots, Elsie, while it lasts. Rest while you can."

"I will, Dr. Klein." She calls down the hall. "Thank you!"

I turn the corner into the common room, a place where the residents of our underground "palace" can relax with the comfort of others before bed, and meet the curious faces of my people. Julius is sprawled across one of the couches, his pregnant wife who is due any day now with her legs across his lap. Damien and Joetta and leaned against the opposite doorway, chatting, and Pat is working on a Rubik's cube, spinning the blocks in a random order.

"How long've you been working on that?" I sit on the arm of the chair he is slouched in, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Hour or so." He shrugs, setting the cube in his lap. "I think it might work better if I weren't color blind."

I laugh and take the toy from his hand. "I've got time, I've got to wait for the Boss. Let me have a wack at it."

"No fair." He jokes. "You've got a genius doctor brain."

"Not really." I spin the cube a few times, matching up the yellow tiles. "Before all this, when I worked here, there were so many brilliant people…" I trail off, feeling a lump in my throat, remembering my colleagues. "Such a-" I choke, and he rests his hand on my back.

"Waste." He finishes for me. "Such a waste."

"Right." I sniff, looking up as the Boss enters the room. He is a normal middle-aged man, my last remaining colleague from working in this very laboratory, and he is not really a "boss,  
persay, yet these people needed someone to give advice, to keep us straight in this world. This is our Boss.

"Meredith." He smiles. "And how is the patient?"

"All ready." I straighten up, brushing my hair behind my ear. "Whenever you are."

"I'd like to see her, if you don't mind." He nods in Pat's direction, and I hand him the solved Rubik's cube as he leads me down the hall once again. "Do you think the immunization will work this time?"

"We've tested it enough times, and I've modified it." I tell him.

"Explain to me again exactly what it does." The Boss gives me his full attention, and I launch into great detail about the vaccination I have been working on. Composed of a sort of blood repellent, one that flows through the vein, made of roamer remains and human elements, it is sort of like bug spray, only strong enough to get you smelling like a dead body. This should repel the biters away, and hopefully allow humans to walk the earth confidently once again. Since the very beginning, something I have been forced to come to terms with, we have been abducting survivors off the road to use in my experiments, and Dylin and her partner are only the latest of many.

"And this is the girl?" He pushes open the door to my office where Dylin is still sprawled out on the hospital-like counter, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

"Yes, her name is Dylin."

"And what about the man?" He runs his hand gently on her dirty hair, ignoring her whimpers.

"He's chained in the other room, I haven't done anything with him yet." I unplug Dylin's drip, knowing she will be awake soon. "Are we taking her out yet?"

"Everything's ready. You get her out there, and I'll have Julius prepare the man." He tells me, turning to leave. "She's a pretty girl. It'd be a pity, if… this didn't work again, Meredith."

"I tried my best." I help Dylin sit up, and she holds her head moaning, and I can only imagine how unreal this must seem, especially with the morphine not worn off yet.

"Then we can only hope. I'll have Pat get the other man ready. You know where I'll be waiting." He smiles and leaves the room.

I allow Dylin some time to retaliate, and when she is strong enough, I help her stand.

"Just try to walk." I tell her. "Your vision will be funny for a moment, but it will come back the sooner you're up and around." I help her do a few practice laps, and then I am leading her through the now-deserted hallways. Most people have gone to bed by this time.

"Where are you taking me." She whispers, like she may be punished if she talks over the allotted volume.

"Shh." Quietly, I continue to lead her. "Just be quiet."

She is quiet, besides her whimpering as I lead her up the ramp, deciding against the stairs. I open the door with my set of keys, leading her out of the chambers, up into the stadium. It is lit up like we might be at a football game again, if only the world were magically back to normal. I let go of her arm, and she follows me to the center of the field. Faint yard lines are still visible, which makes me sad.

"Stay here." I say, turning to leave.

"What's going to happen to me?!" Dylin sobs, trying to run after me, but I stop her.

"Hopefully nothing." Turning to leave again, I walk away, and this time, she stays where she is. "Good luck, Dylin."

"Is that what you tell every person before you kill them?!" She yells back at me angrily, her small hands balled into tight fists. "This is MURDER!"

"Not if you survive." I don't turn back as I walk away.

The Boss is sitting with Julius up in the main viewing box, high enough to see the action going on in the stadium, but not too low that they won't be able to. Julius looks up as I enter, smiling his crooked grin.

"Where's the other one?" I look down on Dylin, who is shivering the early-morning dawn. It is nearly morning, and I can see her breath as she breathes out in tremors.

"O'er there." Julius cocks his head below us to inside the fence where the man is struggling at his heavy restraints, hooked up to a fence with more than one sort of cuff. He looks pretty rugged, but he appears to still have more than enough fight left in him. "Hard little bastard to reel in, though. Got a mean punch, and he went right for the ball sac."

"Thank you for getting him." I say, sideways glancing at the Boss, who is watching Dylin pace around the get warm. "I hope this works."

"Ain't worked the last 10 times." Julius lights a cigarette and inhales deeply. I wonder what he will do when he can't smoke around his baby.

"It gets better every time. 11th time's the charm, I suppose." I point out, which isn't much of an excuse, but the only thing I've got to back up that my vaccine is somehow doing its job and getting better every time. "You should let them in, now."

"Let them in, Pat!" Boss shouts down, aimed under the stadium, and there is a cranking noise as the gates begin to rise. There are many gates, probably where the players would enter from different directions when sports were still played here. Out of each opening, promptly 5 biters are released onto the field. The walls have been smeared with animal blood, to get them into the thirst of food, and Dylin is either live bait, or a cleverly disguised human being.

"Please work." I whisper under my breath. "Come on, Dylin, come on." The man with the restraints is forced to watch, and he rattles the fence with each jerk. It doesn't matter, the roamers are too distracted with a new interest: Dylin.

They roam the field for a while, sniffing at the blood, and some even stop to try and lick it off the wall, but soon it is forgotten. The first one to break loose is a particularly scraggly one with fringy hair and a dirt-streaked face, and he hobbles over to her with interest, making groaning noises. Dylin, if I can tell, is holding her breath, holding as still as a statue. He sniffs around her a little, looking interested, and the girl begins to back away.

And he lunges with a gargling animal sound, causing me to jump, and even Julius cringes at the sight. She lets out a yelp and jumps backward, taking off running in the cold, wet grass. She slips and slides, right into the path of another one, and I suddenly regret not even giving her glasses back. She doesn't have a chance if she doesn't see.

"You bastards! _Bastards_!" The man yells angrily as Dylin hits another one of the rotties in the head, and he recoils after landing on his back. "How could you just watch a girl die – you – you rot in Hell, you rot in _HELL!"_

"Do you think we should get her out of there?" Julius asks, his eyes wide with the terrible sight. The sight I have created.

"Maybe she's immune to their bites." Boss shrugs.

"That's enough, Boss." I tell him, watching the girl get teeth sunk into the soft skin of her neck, and she lets out a blood-curdling shriek, all the while accompanied by the shouts of her angered companion chained to the fence. "We should let her die without being eaten."

"Let me watch this Meredith." He leans back in his plush seat, kicking his feet up on the bench seat in front of us. "I've been underground for a long time. I deserve some entertainment."

Daryl

I wake up to a gnawing headache, one that is like maggots eating away at my skull, burrowing their way into my brain. My foot is tingling, I can feel it inside of my boot, and I slowly open my eyes to the bright light that is shining through the trees.

"Muuurawwwww." I walker is chewing on my foot, leaning over my body, its face hanging off its bones, eyes drooping beyond vision, nose caved in.

"Aw, _shit_." I kick her back with my foot, pulling my body up as she gets up again. I rapidly search around on the ground for something, anything, I can use against the bitch. I grab a stick from under the fallen leaves, turning the walker and thrusting it into her skull. She goes slack, and I yank the blunt stick out, leaving an oozing trail of brain on its way out.

I kick the thing's body aside, searching the area to see if she has any friends. She is apparently alone, but a flash of fluorescent yellow catches my eye, and I dive for my crossbow.

Those bastards left me my crossbow.

And it all comes back. Getting pulled into the car, fighting them off, feeling drowsy. Waking up in some sort of bullshit "hospital" room with wires hooked up to me, and chained to a bed. Being alone in that space for hours, waiting until someone came in to ask me a ton of psychotic questions. I tried to beat their brains in, but being hand-cuffed didn't help. Being led forcefully out of the room, hearing them talk about "experimenting" on my next, and then being cuffed to a fence in some sorta stadium. Seeing Dylin out there. Just a little girl, just another girl, get eaten alive by monsters. Her skin torn to bits, scattered across the grass, blood everywhere, and the walkers just tearing into her flesh.

I went apeshit on the bunch, and that's the last of it that I remember. And they musta trucked me out here in the middle of nowhere. At least they gave me my bow. And the tire tracks are still near, so I can find my way back to the road, if nothin' else.

I get the images out of my mind, still feeling the pain form the images like scar tissue, and sling my bow over my shoulder, and I begin to track.

**Just another reminder so you don't forget to tell me what you think! Also, the song on the soundtrack for this chapter is: Devil Tear by: Marie Fisker. The rest of the soundtrack is posted on my profile, so if you have any suggestions, please PM me, or simply comment. Thanks you guys!**

**Xoxo, Rainbow**


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